When it rains, it pours
by melles
Summary: After Peter receives a phone call from his mother back in Ithaca, NY, he has some decisions to make. Neal offers his help, but things don't go as planned. They have to deal with some problems and a life threatening situation during their stay.
1. Chapter 1

**When it rains, it pours**

**Author:** melles  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Characters:** Peter & Neal (friendship)  
**Word count:** approx. 41,000  
**Spoilers:** S4 - set sometime during the last few episodes  
**Summary:** After Peter receives a phone call from his mother back in Ithaca, NY, he has some decisions to make. Neal offers his help, but things don't go as planned.

**A/N: **Hey there! I'm back!There it goes...my longest "White Collar" fan fic so far! First, and most important, a HUGE THANK YOU to Rainey13 for her amazing help with this one (again). You did a fantastic job! Thank you very much, my dear friend. Also, I really appreciate the constant encouragement from whitecollarlover while we talked about that story for hours and hours.

**Okay, one more thing:**

**Remember, this is all for fun, so don't put every word in the balance. I thought, since the writers of White Collar produced some really nice plot holes and such in the past seasons, we shouldn't take everything too seriously, right? **

**Chapter 1**

Ithaca, NY  
Monday morning

William Burke sat at the kitchen table enjoying the breakfast with his wife Lucy, just like millions of other Americans, too on this Monday morning. However, unlike many other retirees, William still had the habit to get up early just like he was used to after working for almost 50 years. And although he didn't have to, he still worked part time in the company of his son Robert. His eldest son, Peter, had studied and built a successful career at the FBI. His second son had followed in his footsteps and worked in the construction industry. For several years now, Robert was self-employed and ran his own engineering firm.

Without any particular interest, he put his reading glasses on and ran his hand through his silver-gray beard while he paged through the newspaper. It was very hard for him today to stay focused. He'd felt tired and listless for several days. But he wouldn't admit it to his wife. As long he could think of, he was a hard working man. To be sick was out of the question. Minor injuries during his work on construction sites happened almost on a daily basis. The saying "Cowboy up" was an all-time favorite among his colleagues. Quickly this saying had found its way in his private life too, and his two sons Peter and Robert practically grew up hearing those words very often.

He smiled as he watched Lucy trying to make plans for the day with their grandchildren Amy and Jeremy. Currently a viral disease spread around the school; therefore, the facility was closed as a precaution for the rest of the week. Since their parents were working, Lucy had suggested looking after the children in the meantime.

"We could go to the Buttermilk Falls Park and have a picnic," Lucy said.

Jeremy was thrilled. "Yeah! We could throw some balls!" Much like his grandfather, father and uncle, the 12-year old boy was a huge fan of baseball.

"Oh, Grandma and I could join a guided tour," the 9-year old Amy spoke up. "I want the one where one learns to read tracks."

"Well, that sounds great. What do you think of it, Bill?" Lucy asked smiling. But her smile faded and she began to worry when she received no response. "Bill?"

"I'm sorry?" William looked up from the newspaper. He felt embarrassed because he caught himself not paying attention. He wasn't feeling well at the moment, but he blamed it on a low bloodstream. Maybe he had a cold coming on, though he didn't believe it. So far, he had been spared from serious illnesses, so why should it be any different now? _Cowboy up, Burke!_

Lucy looked at him attentively. "You look pale in the face. Are you feeling well?"

There was no way trying to deceive his wife. She knew him too well. After almost 50 years of marriage, she could read him like an open book. So he wasn't really surprised at all. "I feel a little dizzy," he said truthfully. "But don't worry. All I need is a cup of coffee and I'm as good as new."

"I can help you with the coffee," she nodded and poured him a cup. Then she checked her watch. "If we want to have a picnic, we should stock up."

The children were very enthusiastic and quickly cleared the dishes. "Can we join you?"

"Of course, you can." Lucy also stood up and walked to the sink. "Oh no," she sighed as she looked outside to the garden through the window. "Buddha is back on the tree." After a pause she added, "Again."

Buddha was a huge, heavy and ponderous black and white male cat and usually very calm and unflappable. Except when it came to birds - as soon as he spotted one, his animal instinct awoke and nothing could stop him hunting them. Well, almost nothing. As a rule, he made it ON the tree, but coming DOWN from it was a completely different story. William had to rescue him all the time with the help of a ladder.

"He still don't get it that he has no chance," William shook his head in disbelief and put away the newspaper. "I'll get him down later on."

"Be careful," Lucy said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "We'll be back soon."

"Have a good time," he winked at her. "And don't empty the shop of its stock, okay?" His wife had the tendency to worry too much about the well-being of her loved ones. And especially when it came to their grandchildren, it was hard to keep her in check.

…

"You're one of a kind, pal," William grinned and leaned the ladder against the tree. The very next moment he had to lean against it himself and take deep breaths, because he felt dizzy again. Somehow he felt powerless and the sweat stood out on his forehead, although he hadn't done anything strenuous. After a few seconds, he slowly climbed up the ladder, taking one step after another and stopped after the fifth. In his time as a construction worker he had always been in a good shape. But since he primarily worked at the desk, the good home cooking by Lucy had affected his weight. Several times their family physician had pointed out that fact and told him to better watch his weight, but it was hard to hold back when it came to the traditional family recipes. The kids loved his sturdy build, since he made a great Santa Clause for Christmas. However, a few pounds less certainly wouldn't hurt. Next year he would start a diet. Most certainly.

"Come on, Buddha…," he muttered under his breath, but the cat made no attempt to move in any matter. Frustrated he shook his head and turned his eyes briefly to the neighboring property.

The house there had been empty for almost a year now and so slowly the thickets of the garden spread inexorably to the adjoining land. As far as he was concerned, the owner came out a few times a month to check on things, judging from the car that parked in the driveway from time to time. But the care of the garden seemed to have no priority for him. Instead, the man spent most evenings in the basement, since that was the only source of light coming that could be seen in the house by then. For a moment there, William thought he had seen movement inside the house. But the dirty panes of glass made it difficult to make things out for sure. Eyes narrowed, he leaned to the side to get a better view. Was he mistaken or did he see at least two figures in the house? And what kind of object was one of them holding in its hand? Seconds later, a small flash of light lit up the room. A shot!

Suddenly William felt hot and cold at the same time. His heart rate shot up and cold sweat stood on his forehead. But before he could react, he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder and chest region that spread over the whole arm. Startled, he tried to get back down, but his left arm was weak and useless. Shortly after the pain attack, his legs also failed. The world around him got black and he didn't register the impact as he fell down to the ground.

...

Curious by the barking of the chocolate brown Labrador Retriever owned by the Burkes, Mr. Cagle looked out of his window from the 2nd story. For years, William and Lucy had owned Labradors and all dogs had two things in common: all were named Spot and were well trained. Usually, the recent Spot didn't bark very often and that's why Mr. Cagle was wondering what was going on, because Spot was barking constantly for almost five minutes now. He pushed the window up and leaned forward, so he could call the dog. But after he had looked into the garden, his blood ran cold. He quickly picked up the phone.

_"9-1-1 emergency call. How can I help you?"_

"I need help immediately. I-I think my neighbor is…I don't know…he's laying on the ground and no longer moving!"

…

**New York City****  
****Monday****morning**

Neal would never have thought that it would be possible that one day he would be happy about going to the office. But after a week of staying at home due to a very nasty stomach flu, he was eager to get back to work. He had spent most of his time in bed, no, rather in the bathroom, and now his desire for distraction, if only in the form of stupid paperwork grew bigger with each minute passing. But even though he felt better, he wasn't back to his old self yet. He didn't complain, though. He just wanted to get outside again and enjoy the day. Well, as enjoyable as a day could be considering the job that waited for him consisted of reading through the stacks of mortgage fraud cases. Dressed immaculately as always with one of Byron's Devore suits and wearing the mandatory Fedora, Neal stood in front of June's house and waited for Peter to pick him up. Their conversations mostly had been held over the phone the last days and that's why he was looking forward to seeing Peter and speaking to him personally. In one hand he held a thermo cup with freshly brewed coffee of June's special Italian roast. Neal knew how much Peter liked that coffee. He sighed as he remembered that he had to forgo this pleasure for the time being. His stomach was still a little sensitive and he didn't want to push his luck. A look at his cell phone made him frown. Peter was late. And that was unusual. _Probably a lot of traffic,_ Neal thought and shrugged. Well, there was a first time for everything.

Just as he was about to call Peter, Neal could see the Ford Taurus approaching and stopping next to him. "Good morning, Peter. You're late," he said reproachfully and sat on the passenger seat. Of course he had sensed the opportunity to rag about that fact and enjoyed it to the fullest.

Peter looked at him with narrowed eyes and muttered, "Thank you Sherlock for pointing out the obvious."

"Oh, someone in this car seems to be veeeery grumpy. Not getting enough sleep?" Neal asked chuckling. "Here, maybe this will cheer you up."

"Is that…?" Peter asked smiling and suddenly sounding much friendlier.

"Yes."

"June's Italian roast. Exactly what I need right now," Peter sighed and took the thermo cup, opened it and inhaled the scent with closed eyes.

"That bad?" Neal watched his partner closely. In fact, Peter looked exhausted.

"Worse", Peter replied, carefully taking a sip. "El is in San Francisco since last Saturday and the last week was…exhausting." Then he turned around. "No coffee for you?"

"No, not right now," Neal said and put a hand on his belly. "My stomach is still a bit sensitive. I'm sticking with tea for a few days."

"You even look thinner. Seems you've lost some weight. Are you sure you want to return to the office?"

"Peter, I'm touched by your concern, but yes, I'm sure. I can't stay at home any longer. That's almost like being-," he paused and shrugged.

"Like being in prison," Peter ended the sentence for Neal. "I understand. There weren't many people around you the last week."

"I didn't want someone to catch the virus. No worry, I'm fine. Sure, I was on my own. But I was so weak most of the time that I couldn't do much otherwise. If I wasn't in the bathroom, I was asleep in the bed."

"Still I wish I could have done more."

Neal shook his head. "It's okay. Besides, you called at least once a day. You even brought food. It was very much appreciated, thank you."

"It was the least I could do," Peter nodded and then added quietly, "Moreover, El wanted to know how you were doing."

Neal grinned. "You missed me, admit it. Elizabeth is just a lame excuse."

"No!"

"Peter, I've talked with Jones."

"Okay," Peter finally conceded. "I've missed you." He instantly lifted his index finger to stop Neal from replying something witty. "No, let me rephrase that. I've missed your expertise. We just can't crack the Reynolds case."

"What luck that I'm back now. After all I'm, and I quote, 'a technological virtuoso with an encyclopedic knowledge'." This statement was underlined with one of his striking boyish grins. He would never get tired of repeating the quote from a syllabus of a college class.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I'm so happy you're back."

…

Even though Peter would never admit it (because that would only lead his partner to constantly tease him), Neal had been right. Peter had missed him. In all the years of their collaboration, the initial skepticism had turned into a real friendship. Although there had been many downs, the ups were still clearly in the majority. In professional matters, the deal between them was more than worth it. Other divisions envied over the solve rate of almost 95%. And to be honest, Peter was enjoying this. And in a private matter, although their trust issue wasn't completely out of the way, he was proud of the friendship between them. Yeah, Peter had missed Neal. As a colleague, whose knowledge was essential for solving crimes. He missed Neal's smart ideas (even if not all of them were legal). And he had missed Neal as a friend, who, despite his criminal past, always acted loyal and helpful. Although Neal some days was annoying like a little brother or rebellious like a teenager. Still, he was a great companion.

Because they were already running late, a few more minutes wouldn't hurt and so Peter took several more sips before he tucked the cup away and started the car.

"So," Neal leaned back, still grinning. "What's new, except that you can't solve any other case without my expertise?"

"Somehow I have the feeling that I will hear that phrase more often today," Peter mumbled and focused on the road. "What's new? Not much," he added.

"Considering that there's nothing new, you seem rather exhausted."

"Didn't sleep much. We've been working overtime."

"Really? I believe it's because Elizabeth isn't at home."

Sometimes it was scary how well Neal did know him. Nevertheless, he didn't want to admit it. "I'm not home alone for the first time and I'm very capable to look after myself."

"All right," Neal grinned. "You're lost without Elizabeth. I'm sure she has prepared a meal for each day she's gone."

"Hey! I CAN cook."

"Putting a pot roast into the oven doesn't count as cooking. And for your information, the last one was far too dry. Even you had to admit it."

"This has nothing to do with it. Sometimes things like that happen."

"If you say so." Neal was still grinning. "You are in a complete tizzy. You even ran late today. And you're in a foul mood."

"I'm not in a foul mood," Peter shot back, grumbling. "I'm just…sleep-deprived." And he knew exactly why. Neal had been right. He missed El. Sleeping in the big bed without her felt somehow strange. Since her kidnapping by Matthew Keller, he had a hard time letting her out of his sight. Even though he knew that she was safe, he found it difficult to come to terms with the situation.

"Whatever you say. And eyes on the road, okay? I haven't been fighting for a week to overcome that virus infection only to die in a stupid car accident."

_TBC…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Startled in his thoughts by the knock on his door, Peter looked up and realized that he had a visitor standing behind the large glass windows. He waved him in and waited until he had taken a seat. "Neal. What's up?"

Neal smiled. "It's lunch break. Come on. I'll pay."

Peter looked at his watch. "Oh, seems I lost track of time." Then he thought about the offer for a moment. "Thanks for the invitation. But I'm already supplied." With one hand he pointed to sandwich wrapped in foil. In order to not have to interrupt his work, he earlier had sent out a probie to get him something to eat from the cafeteria. The more distraction he got with work, the less he had to think of El.

"Elizabeth will kill me if she finds out what you're eating here. You need something decent."

"I could say the same about you," Peter retorted. He was still worried about Neal's thin figure.

"That's why I want to go out to eat. Come on now. My boss demands that I'm back on time."

…

While they waited for their food to be served, Peter reached inside his jacket pocket and frowned. Then he realized that he had forgotten his cell phone at the office. "Oh great," he mumbled, blaming himself for his own forgetfulness.

"What?" Neal asked, sipping his soda.

"I wanted to text El, but I forgot my cell on my desk," Peter said.

Without hesitation, Neal held out his own cell. "Here. Take mine."

"No, no problem," Peter waved his hand. Under no circumstances did he want to look like a lovesick teenager, who couldn't stay away half a day from his flame. "I'll text her when we're back."

The waiter brought them their orders. A Panini sandwich for Peter and a fruit salad for Neal.

"How long will Elizabeth be out of town?" Neal wanted to know.

"Until Friday," Peter answered, sounding a bit frustrated, because he didn't like the thought at all.

"Oh my," Neal muttered and quickly shoved a forkful of fruit salad in his mouth.

Peter had just heard what Neal had said. Nevertheless, he played the ignorant. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

"I heard you. It sounded suspiciously like "Oh my" to me."

"I'm just saying!" Neal shrugged. "Elizabeth is just gone for three days. If your mood stays the same for the rest of the week, then…"

At first, Peter wanted to reply something, but then he realized that Neal had - once again - nailed it. Luckily he still had Satchmo. So at least someone was waiting for him to come home at the evening. "And what do you suggest?"

"Oh, there are so many ways to spend the evenings," Neal answered immediately. "I've heard about some very interesting art exhibitions-"

"No, Neal. We will NOT going to art museums."

"But-"

"I've said no."

"Peter!"

Oh, how he had missed those little battles of words last week! Especially when Neal started to pout like a toddler. So he decided to play along. "We could watch some games on ESPN."

"If that's supposed to be a joke, it isn't funny at all."

Yeah, he had definitely missed it. Peter grinned mischievously. "Eat your salad."

…

Back at the office, Neal sat down at his desk while Peter went to his office straight away, because he wanted to send a text message to Elizabeth as soon as possible. But unfortunately he didn't get very far. After a few steps he was approached by Jones.

"Boss?"

"Yes?"

The agent handed him a file. "I need a few more signatures from you."

Peter looked at his watch. "Can't that wait? I have something else on my list first."

"No problem," Jones nodded.

Just as Peter wanted to go, Neal came up to him. "Neal, I need some time-"

Neal seemed to be worried. "Peter, Elizabeth is on the phone," he said while he held out his cell phone to Peter. "She said she couldn't reach you."

"And that's why she called you," Peter concluded and took the cell. "Hon? I'm sorry, I forgot my cell at the office and-" He broke off, because Elizabeth interrupted him.

_"Peter, it's about your father!"_ Her voice sounded excited.

Peter raised one eyebrow and looked at Neal, who shrugged helplessly and obviously had no idea what was going on. "Come again, El. I don't understand," he stammered into the cell and went to his office so he could talk in private.

_"Your mother tried to reach you for at least 1 hour."_

"What happened?" Peter wanted to know. His gut feeling told him that something was wrong. He walked around his desk and immediately saw his cell phone laying on top of some files. A quick glance at the display told him that he had missed 10 calls, 8 from his mother and 2 from Elizabeth. Suddenly he had a very bad feeling, because normally his mother wouldn't call him during working hours. And most certainly not for so many times.

_"Your father suffered a heart attack. You have to call your mother immediately. She's devastated."_

"Yes, but...," Peter didn't know what to say and let himself sink slowly into his chair.

_"Peter! You have to call Lucy!"_

"What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll-I'll call her right away." A thousand things raced around his head at the same time and made it hard for him to think straight. "I-"

_"I'm going to end the call, alright? If you know more, please call me back. I love you, Hon."_

For how long he had been staring at the cell in his hand, he couldn't tell, but then he was startled by a knock on his door.

"Peter? Everything okay with you?" Neal peeked through the door, but chose to stand outside.

"Huh? Yes. No. I don't know." He still thought he had misunderstood Elizabeth.

Without waiting for permission, Neal stepped in and frowned. "Now you're scaring me. You look pale."

"My father," he simply said, looking directly at Neal. "He's had a heart attack."

"Is he okay? Can I do something for you?" Neal offered his help instantly.

"I have to call my mother first."

Nodding and without objections, Neal turned around and left the office. Outside, he met Diana and spoke to her briefly. She looked inside; her facial features clearly showed her empathy towards Peter.

With trembling fingers Peter took the handset from his telephone and started to dial the number from his parents. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes while he waited. With each free line signal that went unanswered, his pulse quickened. After what seemed to be an eternity, the call was accepted, but it wasn't his mother on the other end of the line.

"Rob-Robert? It's me. What's going on?" While he listened to his younger brother, a cold shiver ran down Peter's spine. "And what did the doctors say?" Squinting his eyes, Peter tried to memorize all the given information, but still wasn't satisfied. "Then you have to ask them again...where's Mom now? Okay, yeah...I understand...I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye." The color had drained from his face while he sat motionless for a few moments trying to collect himself. He ran a hand over his face and struggled to think clearly.

"Any news?"

Peter looked up and saw Neal standing in front of his desk. He hadn't realized that Neal had been back. "Not much so far. He," Peter cleared his throat, "Dad suffered a heart attack this morning," he stammered.

"I'm sorry," Neal said sincerely and thought for a moment. "Are you going home?"

Sighing, Peter replied, "I don't know what to do."

"You have to inform Hughes. If you want to fly back home, I'm sure he wouldn't object."

"Yes, but..."

"No buts. Unless you don't want to go home?"

"Of course I want to. But I can't leave that easily."

"What you are trying to say is, that you can't leave me alone," Neal countered. "I'm sure Jones and Diana will be delighted to take care of me."

Although Neal was grinning, Peter knew that his partner was dead serious and muttered, "Oh, Diana will definitely look forward to that." Then he was silent again for a few seconds. "I can't leave. What about Satchmo?"

"No problem. I'll take him with me."

"You would do that?"

"Hey, I've already had taken care of him once. Though basically your plan was about drawing my attention to Ellen's file," Neal said with a shrug. "But yes, I would do it. I like him and he likes me."

"Satchmo likes anyone who feeds him and rubs his belly," Peter interjected thoughtfully.

"Um, we should rather not worry about that. There are more important things to consider right now. You have to catch a flight to...wherever your parents live." He seemed to be thinking. "Or rather, I will take care of the flight and you will inform Hughes."

...

"This is ridiculous!" Peter looked up from the notepad that Neal had given him minutes before and scanned the list with the various flights again. "The next one leaves LaGuardia in less than an hour...that's impossible to accomplish!" He sighed. "There's one leaving in three hours. But look at the lost time while waiting for it. Due to the budget dispute the security staff is reduced and delays are pre-programmed. All in all it takes six hours to reach Ithaca." Again, he scanned the numbers and hid his face in his hands. He felt very tired right now and braced his elbows on the table. Barely audible, he said, "Going by car is taking almost as much time, but still I would favor that."

Neal sat opposite to him and watched him attentively. "But in your actual condition I wouldn't recommend that. Look at you, Peter. You're tired and can hardly concentrate."

"I'm afraid I have no choice. I hate waiting for a flight."

"And what would be the difference with the car?"

"While waiting for the flight, I could be almost down a third of the way. And I wouldn't feel so idle."

"Okay, that's...plausible. Somehow." Neal stood up. "Nevertheless, I think it's a bad idea to let you drive all alone."

"I'm a good driver!" Peter shot back instantly. Although he didn't want to, he hit the plate with his fist. His nerves were strained and he felt the pressure on his chest.

"It depends on the perspective," Neal muttered and then added a little louder, "But even a good driver becomes a bad driver when he's tired or cranky..."

"And what do you suggest? I can't ask a probie to come with me. Especially when it comes to private matters." Since Neal didn't answer right away, Peter suspected that his partner didn't have another idea to solve the problem and sighed. "Exactly. I have no alternative."

Suddenly Neal grinned. It was his patented Caffrey smile and usually that meant trouble. "You've got something better. You got me."

Peter frowned, trying to understand what Neal was implying. Then, it dawned to him and he raised his eyebrows. "Oh no. No, no," he shook his head and stood up. Putting his hand on his hips, he said, "Certainly not!"

"C'mon Peter!" Neal answered, sounding genuinely offended. "Why not?"

"Because...," Peter opened his mouth to reply, but had to admit that Neal's suggestion sounded not that bad. Still, he couldn't let that happen. "Because you don't have a valid and more important LEGAL driver's license, for example? And Ithaca is unfortunately far out of your radius? And because you aren't up to 100 percent yourself?"

Neal waved a hand and looked amused. "Oh, those are unimportant trifles. If I had to work physical for 6 six hours or you would force me to read files of mortgage frauds, then in fact I would play the "I-am-still-too-ill-to-work" card. But that's not the point." He became serious again. "Peter, it's your family! The longer we discuss, the longer it takes to get back home."

...

"I still can't believe it," Peter muttered while he struggled with his seatbelt. After he had talked to Hughes and got his approval to be exempted from duty, his supervisor had surprised him once more when he also had made sure that Neal was allowed to accompany him. After that, everything had happened pretty fast.

First, he had spoken to Elizabeth and got her approval. (Not that he had needed a confirmation for going back home anyway. But it felt nice nevertheless). Then he and Neal had driven to Brooklyn where he had packed a suitcase in less than 10 minutes. In the meantime Neal had stowed away Satchmo's leash and toys in the back of the car. Slightly out of breath, Peter had taken the seat behind the wheel and drove back to June's house. This time it had been Neal's turn to get his belongings. Peter had used the waiting time to thank June repeatedly for taking care of Satchmo. To his surprise, even Mozzie had offered to walk the dog while they were out of town. With all the other problems in his mind, Peter was too confused to wonder about Mozzie's intentions. Within minutes, Neal had been back, one backpack in his hand. That on the other hand hadn't surprised him, because Neal was a master of light travelling. All the ex-con needed to leave town was stuffed in the small bag. After that they had started a discussion when it had come to the question who would be driving the car. "How could I agree to that?"

"Lean back, close your eyes and relax," Neal said as he maneuvered the Ford through the heavy traffic. Contrary to Peter's habit, Neal didn't take his eyes from the road while he drove.

"I just hope your Gary Rydell doesn't gain the upper hand." This alias of Neal was known for his uncanny ability to wreck expensive cars, so Peter was slightly nervous.

"Don't worry," Neal said and seemed to know to what Peter was referring to. "That was only a rumor. To this day I never experienced a car accident. But you know the saying 'There's a first time-"

Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I knew it!"

Neal enjoyed the moment to the fullest, of course. "Peter," he said, his voice sounding very serious, "I'm a very good driver. Relax." A few moments later, he said, "Tell me about your family."

"What?" Peter looked at him dumbfounded. "Why?"

"Well, because we need a subject for the next few hours. You know my past," he shrugged with his shoulders, "so I thought it would be nice to be forewarned."

"Forewarned?"

"You know, are there any dark family secrets I should know of?"

"Oh," Peter said, "you mean such embarrassing or ridiculous things like...," he trailed off.

Neal's face lit up and he smiled happily in anticipation.

But Peter remained silent because he knew what Neal was up to.

"You're a spoilsport."

"I won't tell you any embarrassing or ridiculous things about my family for sure," Peter shook his head and reached for the newspaper he had picked up earlier from the kitchen table. He started to do the crossword puzzle and muttered, "If I would tell you, then there wouldn't be any dark family secrets at all."

"Fine," Neal answered and his disappointment was clearly audible. "How about some music?" He asked and reached for the radio.

"Don't you dare to switch the stations!" Peter warned him and tried to push away Neal's hand.

But Neal was faster and smacked Peter's hand instead. "Hey! I'm the driver. I decide what station."

Peter immediately pulled back his hand and looked at Neal with mixture of surprise and frustration. "What are you up to?"

"If you aren't willing to entertain me, then I'll do it myself." With a wry grin, he added, "You asked for it!"

Grabbing his forehead with his right hand, Peter sighed. "This can't be true!"

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

That Neal had been right with his assumption, regarding Peter's exhaustion, became quite apparent after about 30 minutes into the drive. Because when he cast a quick glance towards the passenger seat, Neal could see that Peter had fallen asleep. So he took the opportunity and let his mind wander a bit. How long had it been now since he had travelled such a long distance by car? Apart from the ride from the airport to Manhattan on the day of his escape from the maximum security prison, of course. Eight years? Ten?

He remembered the summer months he had spent at the French Riviera. There he had met Monique and had travelled along the costal roads with her. They had spent a few days in Cassis with its just over 7,000 inhabitants and enjoyed the local scenery of the sea while they drove by. Even today, he enthused about the _Fete de la Saint__-Pierre et de la Mer_, known as the annual fishing festival. He smiled as he thought about how they had celebrated with the citizens dancing and laughing until early sunrise.

Or the time he had lived in the Palazzo Sasso in Ravello. The hotel on the Italian Amalfi Coast was still his all time favorite and he would love to show Sara the wonderful view from the roof terrace suite. Maybe he was drawn to the sea again and again by those beautiful memories?

Unfortunately he couldn't return to these places for another two years, due to his work release program with the FBI. Viewed in this light, this trip was his first "vacation" outside of his radius since his escape to Cap Verde a few months back. Inevitably, his thoughts went to Maya and he couldn't prevent a sad sigh. Was she happy right now? In financial terms, she was well secured at least. Thanks to the generous reward the FBI had paid for his capture. He hadn't contacted her since then, fearing for her safety. So all he could do was hope that she and little Hector were doing fine. One day, he told himself, they would see each other again. After all, with a little help from his friends, he had been able to stop the intrigue of Henry Dobbs, aka Robert Macleish. A small compensation for pain and suffering after being shot by Agent Collins who had tried to stop him from running.

As he drove along Interstate 88N, he actually enjoyed the sight of nature. He had never been a country boy, but after so many years in prison and his own prison within the two-mile radius at New York, the sight was simply overwhelming. Now, in early September, many leaves had already started to change color. The impression of the beauty and vastness of the landscape was breathtaking. In the car in front of them he could spot a family. The two children at the backseat were joking around. Seeing this, Neal's heart grew heavy for he was reminded of his own childhood. Joint family trips had been very rare. His mother had always been distant and although Aunt Ellen had tried to fill that spot, Neal had always suffered not having a real family. At this point, he had begun to take on different roles in order to escape the sad reality. In his imagination he was like his father. The hero, who died in a gun fight. He dreamed to become the high decorated police officer his mother always had told him about. But this dream had been cruelly demolished on his 18th birthday when he had to learn the truth about his father from Ellen. For a long time he had thought that he would be better off without his family and fend for himself. But then he had been caught by Peter for the first time. Back then he had seen in him only one of many enemies.

According to the philosophy of Sun Tzu that you should know your enemy to win the battle, Neal had started to study Special Agent Peter Burke very thoroughly. And he had developed more and more respect for the older man. Peter Burke was that kind of man Neal had wanted as a father. Whether it was a coincidence that Peter had stepped into his life, or fate, Neal didn't know. And to be honest, he didn't care. More importantly he savored the friendship that had developed between them during the recent years. Even if they have had some tricky situations, they always ended up fighting together and overcoming all obstacles.

Again, he glanced towards his right side, where Peter was still asleep. After a few seconds he realized how easy it would be to escape right now. After all, his watchdog was put out of action at the moment. Within seconds, he made a decision.

...

When Peter woke up, he noticed his stiff neck at first and blinked a few times while he tried to gather information about his whereabouts. It took him several seconds to realize where he was.

In his car.

At the passenger seat.

In the middle of nowhere.

Alone.

He moved his neck carefully and noticed that the car was in a parking lot. He remembered the reason why he was in his car. He had been travelling with Neal to Ithaca. But Neal was gone. Peter sighed. He must have fallen asleep. And as to be expected, Neal's old habit seemed to have kicked in - he had run away.

Instinctively his hand went to his shoulder holster. The gun was still there. Then he searched for his FBI badge and was relieved to see that it was also still in place. As was his wallet. Then he slowly unbuckled the seat belt and opened the door. All door locks unlocked simultaneously. Surprised, he paused for a moment - why was the car locked at all? Because most of his back muscles hurt, he had to be careful when he got out of the car. He turned around and recognized a small parking lot in front of a drug store beside a busy road. But still he couldn't figure out where he was. After he had closed the door, he took some eager steps to become more alert. At the same time he fumbled for his cell phone because he wanted to trace the signal from Neal's anklet. Astonished, he found out that almost four hours had passed and that he had missed three calls. His pulse rate increased as he recognized the caller ID's. Two calls from his brother and one from El. Immediately he switched plans and instead chose to call Robert back. While he waited, he went around in a small circuit and studied the area to locate any distinctive reference points. He still didn't know where he was. And where the hell was Neal?! He took a deep breath as he heard Robert's voice. "Hey, it's me. You've tried to reach me?"

A few minutes later, he finished the call, lowered his hand and stood still for a few moments, lost in thoughts. Then he raised his hand again and started the app for Neal's anklet. He waited nervously after he logged in and loosened his tie. Concentrated he stared at the small display and startled as he heard a voice behind him. Immediately he turned around and saw Neal approaching him.

"Oh, you're awake." In his hands, Neal held a paper cup and a sandwich still wrapped in foil.

Relieved, Peter lowered the phone again. He became aware of his bad conscience because he had prejudged Neal too quickly. Again. "Where are we?"

"Binghamton," Neal answered and joined Peter. He put the paper cup on the roof of the car. "Did you sleep well? I wasn't sure if I should have woken you up," he explained and unwrapped the sandwich.

"Binghamton," Peter repeated and ran a hand over his face. "That means we are close at home. Just about 50 miles left." When he looked at Neal, he realized that his friend was still waiting for an answer. "I'm not fully awake yet. Did I really sleep all the time?"

"Like a baby," Neal grinned. "Would you like something to eat?" He ostentatiously took a bite of the sandwich.

"A coffee would be great. And yes, you should have woken me up. I could have switched places with you."

Neal waved with his free hand and swallowed his mouthful. "No problem. We need to gas up and I took the opportunity to make a trip to the restroom. And to the food bar." Even if it wasn't necessary, he held up the snack once more.

The prospect of being able to stretch his legs was very tempting for Peter. "I'm going to get some coffee. How's your stomach?"

"Better," Neal nodded and took a sip from the cup which was obviously filled with tea, judging from the tea label.

"I'll be right back," Peter said and went to the drug store. A few minutes later he came back and saw Neal sitting near the car on a park bench. For a moment he stopped dead in his tracks and watched him. Neal seemed unaware of his presence and instead fascinated by the traffic. Peter was still embarrassed about himself because of his misjudging earlier. _You should know better,_ he reprimanded himself just thinking about thinking that. The past had shown that Neal was a loyal friend although the trust between them had been standing on shaky ground from time to time. Like he had said once, there still was faith. _And even if he had run, I would have found him sooner or later._ A small grin appeared on Peter's face. After he had sat down beside him he said, "You like that, mhm?" When he saw Neal's questioning look, he added, "To drive."

"It's been a while since I drove myself and I have to admit that it's fun to be able to go outside my radius," Neal answered candidly, but then changed the subject. "Any news from home?"

Peter put his cream cheese bagel and coffee down next to him. "I just called Robert. No change so far. At least his condition hasn't worsened."

Neal nodded. "That's good to hear." He remained silent for a moment before he asked softly, "And how is your mother?"

With raised eyebrows Peter looked at Neal and took a deep breath. He could see that Neal was a bit shaken too and thought about it for a moment. "She's still rattled, even though Robert says that she now seems more composed than this morning. The doctor gave a mild sedative, because she had been very upset."

"Understandable," Neal said and looked down. It was obvious that something was bothering him.

At first Peter didn't know how to classify Neal's behavior. And that was irritating him a lot, because he could read Neal like an open book most of the time. But this time he failed and that was a very rare occasion. Stalling for more time, he took a sip of coffee and grimaced.

"It's probably not June's special roast, huh?" Neal looked at him and smiled slightly.

"No, not at all." He sat down the cup and leaned back. "What is it, Neal?"

Almost frightened, Neal glanced at him for some seconds before he tried to appease with a corresponding gesture. "Oh, nothing. Nothing that's important anyway."

"Why don't you let me decide whether it's important or not?"

Neal hesitated at first, but then shrugged. "I've had some time to think while I drove and I...just asked myself how I would have reacted if it had been my mother. But somehow-," he shook his head. "I just don't know. I can't explain it. I feel nothing for her. I was 18 when I saw her the last time and James...," he stopped again and drew in a sharp breath. "Let's not talk about it."

Peter could feel his stomach tighten. Of course, he had noticed that Neal called his father by the first name, not Dad. He felt sorry. Quite contrary to Neal, he had grown up in an average family and hadn't been forced at the age of three to leave the city to live in a strange neighborhood with a fake name. Unlike Neal, he hadn't been separated from his parents. According to his friend, his mother hadn't been able to look after the young child, let alone to take care of herself. It filled Peter with sadness when he thought of what Neal had to endure and how full of deprivation his childhood must have been. The meeting with James only had torn up old wounds. Peter initially had hoped that the reunion of father and son would turn out positive, but he had been wrong. Everything had worsened and became more difficult. In the end, Neal had been emotionally hurt once more. "Okay," he nodded. "Whenever you'll feel like it, I'm here to listen," he offered. "I'm here for you."

"Yeah, I know that," Neal said softly and added, "Thank you."

During the next few minutes, no one spoke and both were hanging by their own thoughts while they ate. Finally, Peter wiped his mouth with his napkin and wiped his fingers. "Okay. Let's go. I will drive the remaining distance. You can rest." Secretly, he had expected that Neal would object, but he just nodded wordlessly. At the point Peter knew that his friend was exhausted, too.

"Oh, hey," Neal said when Peter drove. "Do you happen to know a nice hotel in Ithaca?"

Peter blinked and looked at Neal. "You can stay with me. We have a guest room."

"No," Neal replied, shaking his head. "I don't want to disturb. This is a family matter. It's not my place to stay."

"You won't disturb anyone."

"Still, I would prefer the hotel", he insisted and then grinned. "Don't worry. I'm not going to run."

Again, guilt overcame Peter and he replied, "That's not the point." He noted that his response had been too quick. "Okay, I admit, I would like to have you close. You are like a magnet to trouble, I'm afraid."

"Who? Me?" Neal put a hand over his heart in a mock gesture. "You can be completely assured. I don't think Ithaca has that many temptations to offer. Besides, I'm a reformed man. A role model citizen so to speak."

"Alright," Peter deadpanned while Neal stayed silent. "And just for your information - Ithaca has a lot to offer."

"Yeah? Tell me."

"Did you know that there are many more restaurants per capita than New York has?"

"No, but I don't see how that information will help me. I was thinking more of art galleries or museums." Without waiting for an answer, Neal pulled out his cell phone and began typing. After a few moments his face lit up and he turned towards Peter, a big grin on his face. "Oh, I think I've found my paradise!"

"Cape Verde is on the other side of the pond and we certainly won't go there."

Indignantly Neal frowned. "Nonsense, Peter." Then he held up his cell phone. "Why didn't you tell me about the more than 100 wineries? And not to mention the...Cayuga Lake Wine Trail with 16 of the best wineries?! Sixteen, Peter!"

"Ah, yeah, right," Peter said listless and was not very enthusiastic. "Remind me to get enough pickle juice." Neal's last hangover was still one to remember after Neal had enjoyed a little too much whiskey while trying to fake it.

"Oooh look at that," Neal exulted like he hadn't listened to Peter and continued surfing at the internet. "There's a map with the wineries in pdf format. Great, now all I need to find is a hotel." He grew silent for a moment. "Okay, the William Henry Miller Inn looks promising." Again, silence before he started to read aloud. "This hotel is in close proximity to the world famous Moosewood Restaurant and fifty other restaurants. The Kitchen Theatre, Cornell University and fascinating shops can be found "around the corner" such as the breathtaking Cascadilla Gorge waterfalls." He tapped a few times on the touch screen and then grinned. "It's booked."

Peter shook his head in amusement. "Three cheers for modern technology."

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The nearer Peter came to his home town, the more nervous he got. But in spite of everything he was glad to have Neal with him, for he was grateful for his moral support as well as for the distraction. They had talked about Ithaca and despite Neal's initial fears had come up with some very attractive facilities. After Peter had dropped him off at the hotel, and reminded him (once more) to stay out of trouble, he had to admit that Neal's idea of staying at the hotel wasn't that bad at all. He had to focus on his family now and couldn't take care of Neal at the same time. And somehow he was still full of hope that his friend and partner would listen to him (just once). With mixed feelings he drove towards his parent's house. It had been years since he had been here together with El. Now he regretted that they hadn't visited more often. Maybe this time...it would be the last time to see his father. Shaking his head, he thought, _You can't think like that. Think positive!_

His heartbeat increased after he finally stopped the Ford in the driveway. Turning off the engine, he remained seated. For a moment he was just sitting in silence, looking through the windshield at the well-maintained brick home. Childhood memories came to his mind and he smiled as he thought of those days he played ball with his father and brother in the backyard. He remembered the day his father took him and his brother to New York to watch a game at the Yankees Stadium. At that time it had seemed like a trip around the world and the very active metropolis had impressed him very much. Everything had seemed much bigger, higher and louder and even his father had fallen at the sight of the countless skyscrapers in Manhattan. He and his brother had eaten so many hotdogs that they got sick by the end of the day. But despite that, the two of them still thought of that special day every time they met each other and started to look at the old pictures.

A sudden knock at the window startled Peter and he was torn from his thoughts. Blinking, he turned his head and saw Robert standing besides the car. He quickly unbuckled his seat belt and took the car keys from the ignition before he climbed out. Then he stayed silent for a moment while he just looked at his younger brother. Robert was eight years younger than him and Robert's outward appearance left no room for speculations if they were related. Robert had the same build and hair color, still he was a few inches shorter than Peter. "Hey," Peter said softly and hugged him.

"Hey," Robert nodded and returned the gesture and additionally tapped him on the shoulder. "Long time, no see."

"I know," Peter admitted a bit awkward and stepped back to end the embrace. "How are you?"

"According to the circumstances," Robert sighed, "I'm fine. Are you coming in? Mom is still a bit tired, but she has repeatedly asked for you. Do you have any suitcases? And how was your trip?"

"To be honest, I slept most of the time. And no, I have only one duffel bag."

"So it wasn't a bad idea to travel two by two."

"Yeah, and I'm grateful that Neal has agreed to come along."

Robert smiled. "And where is he now? Or have you forgotten him somewhere?"

"No," Peter laughed and knew what his brother was referring to. As a teenager they once went to a concert, but they had arrived late at the venue because Peter had to drive back to the drug store they had stopped by earlier that day. One of their passengers had been left behind but nobody had noticed it at first, so it hadn't been entirely Peter's fault. This incident had led to a significant delay and -of course- a lot of laughter afterwards. "He insisted on staying at the hotel."

They walked slowly to the door. "Too bad, I have been looking forward to meeting your partner after I've heard so much about him."

"Don't worry, he will be coming here tomorrow morning. He was sick last week and isn't up to 100% yet. I think he will be going to bed early tonight."

...

After he had arrived at the hotel, it had been only a matter of a few minutes to collect his room key. He quickly stowed away his few belongings and went to the window to look outside. Compared to New York, Ithaca was frighteningly quiet. Although he had looked forward to meeting both Peter's and Elizabeth's families for a long time, he also knew that this wasn't the time. Therefore, he had chosen a hotel. And this also was a family emergency, so the decency simply commanded not to stay at the Burkes.

Still, he hadn't offered his help entirely altruistically. For the first time in more than seven years he was able to see something different. And it was far less dangerous than his "excursion" to Cape Verde had been. At that time he had risked a lot be free. But in reality he hadn't been free at all. Having to look over his shoulder constantly had taken much of his impartiality. So this was the first opportunity - the first LEGAL opportunity - to leave his radius. If this wasn't tempting at all...

The offered evening events he had found at the hotel lobby sounded far less tempting however. Since it was still early, he decided to explore the city by foot and look out for a nice restaurant. For the first time in days, he felt really hungry and that made him confident. According to Peter there were many places to go, so the chances to find a cozy restaurant were good.

After a few minutes he had reached the Moosewood Restaurant. On his way over he had spotted a bookstore that offered used and rare books and had stopped to look through the window. He would have loved to rummage through it, but unfortunately the store had already closed. Therefore, he decided to stop by the next day. Just a few steps ahead he could see the sign of the Moosewood. Once there, he was assigned to a table and studied the menu. It didn't take long to choose and Neal let his eyes wander. The place was crowded. A young couple with three little children was seated behind him. Two tables behind him sat a grey-haired and stocky-looking man with the back facing him. With two half-filled wine classes on the table, Neal assumed that his companion was probably somewhere around. The waitress came back a short time later and took Neal's order.

Despite the rush of visitors, it didn't take too long until his meal was served. After taking a few bites, Neal knew that he had already fallen in love with this restaurant. And even though he hadn't wanted to admit it at first, he had to admit that the city had its own charm. The longer he stayed, the better he liked it. Satisfied, he took a sip of water and leaned back in order to pursue one of his favorite pastimes - watching people. His life as a con artist had made it necessary to assess his opponent correctly. He noticed that two pretty young ladies were whispering in the hallway and looking at his direction. Both repeatedly pointed at him and seemed very excited. Smiling broadly, he readjusted his tie. Yes, this city was very lovely.

Giggling, the girls came towards him and he stretched his back a little. With his patented Caffrey smile he cleared his throat. But his smile disappeared and was replaced by a frown when the two passed by and stopped at the second table behind him.

"Can we take picture with you?"

A picture? Of the gray-haired man? The question surprised him and made him blink. Had he misjudged that much? What was so exciting about the man? While he thought about it, he could hear someone answer the question.

This time Neal was amazed. That voice sounded familiar! And it certainly didn't belong to the grey-haired man. Curiously, Neal turned around and raised his eyebrows. No wonder that the man drew attention to himself. After all, that man was known as New York's most wanted bachelor who liked to flirt very often. "Rick! What a surprise!"

The brown-haired man was still busy with the two ladies and it took a few seconds to respond to Neal's address. With a broad smile, he said, "Hey! What are you doing here?"

Neal stood up and answered, "I could ask you the same."

Rick watched after the two women, before he responded. "It's been a damn long time since our last meeting. Good to see you, Neal."

The two embraced briefly and patted each other on the shoulders. "Seems like your fan base has doubled, Castle," Neal laughed and winked at him.

"Yeah, fantastic, isn't it?" Rick laughed out loud and didn't mind Neal's crooked comment. "But you haven't answered my question."

"The same goes for you."

Castle raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were still located in New York at least for one more year?" Then he pointed to his table. "Come on, sit down with us and let's talk about the good old times."

Neal didn't hesitate and nodded, took his glass and the plate and walked over to where his old buddy Rick Castle and the other man were seated.

"Edward Simmons, meet Neal Caffrey," Rick stopped short and seemed to consider. "Um, Neal is, well..."

Neal put the dishes down before he replied, "No need to worry." He waved his hand smiling before he offered it to Simmons. Of course he had recognized the concerns from Rick. "I'm a convicted bond forger, who offers his tremendous knowledge as a consultant to the FBI for almost three years now."

Simmons hesitated, but then returned the greeting gesture. "Bond forger, consultant for the FBI, huh? An interesting career, that's for sure. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Caffrey."

"He also acted as the model for one of my fictional characters," Rick explained and smiled. "Neal, this is Dean Simmons from Cornell University. He teaches English and Literature."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Simmons. Literature! Which era?" He was immediately hooked on this topic.

"Nineteenth century. My secret hobby though is the English Love Poetry..."

Without further ado Neal began to quote a poem from Lord Byron, "Away with your fictions of flimsy romance, those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove!"

Simmons nodded approvingly and finished the paragraph. "Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love." He smiled afterwards. "I'm impressed, Mr. Caffrey." Then he looked at Castle. "And above all, of course now I want to know how the two of you have met."

"Yeah, he's a man of many talents," Rick grinned and waved for the waitress. "How about a glass of wine? I guess we have a lot to talk about."

...

"There's not much to say," Robert sighed as the two walked slowly to the house. "Mom called me this morning. Completely upset. After I got here, the EMTs were already here. Then we drove to the hospital, but you know the drill. It took hours until all the tests had been done. At the end, the doctor said that Dad has had much luck because the ambulance had been here so fast. Mom still was very upset, so he gave a sedative and sent us home. That's all for now. We can visit Dad tomorrow and hopefully there's more information about his condition to tell."

Peter nodded. Basically, Robert had already told him that over the phone, but it was different to hear it in person. "Well, in this case, no news is good news." His heart beat faster when he approached the front door. He had no idea how he should react in regards of his mother and wished that El would be here with him.

Robert opened the door and stepped in, so that Peter could also enter the house.

Although Peter had grown up here, the house felt strangely alien to him. It was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually the radio was on with the local sports channel or the channel of the Ithaca College. His Dad didn't want to miss a single game from the Bombers, the college baseball team. He paused and looked around. Robert's voice brought him back to reality.

"Mom's in the living room. I'll stay a little bit and then head home to talk to Pam after she's back. Jeremy and Amy desperately want to stay overnight, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I think the two are old enough to decide for themselves and I also think that Mom wouldn't mind. A little distraction isn't that bad." He knew exactly how it felt to be alone. After Elizabeth had been kidnapped by Matthew Keller. Of course, it was hard to compare those two situations. But he knew the feeling when the beloved partner was suddenly no longer there. How it felt when you were suddenly faced with an event that you couldn't control and you were left behind feeling helpless. He knew the feeling when you almost perish of concern. And all you wish for was to be able to change everything back. He knew exactly how it felt when you would give anything in order to be together with your partner. But the reality looked different. "Say hello from me to Pam, will you?" Pamela was Robert's wife. "Too bad I missed her."

"Will do, thanks. She was here all afternoon today. A viral infection is going around at school so that means there will be no teaching this week. Tonight is open school day to clarify what to do next. And I guess at least one of us should fulfill the parental responsibilities," he said with a wink. "She's coming over again tomorrow."

"Don't worry about the children. We will look after them." By "we" he meant his mother, but Peter didn't say that aloud. It wasn't like he couldn't deal with children. He was doing fine with kids - as long as they behaved, stayed quiet, were able to employ themselves and didn't use a 515 form as a coloring book. Plus, he knew Jeremy and Amy right from the cradle. Nothing he couldn't handle. If he could deal with Neal, he would also come to terms with his niece and nephew. Right?

"Just call if there's a problem, okay?" Robert said and walked over to the living room. With a pat on the shoulder he added, "After you, big boy."

Peter went ahead with mixed feelings, but stopped short after a few steps and looked at his brother. Then he put the duffel bag down, took a deep breath and entered the room. The curtains were drawn. The TV was running and eerie shadows danced on the walls. Peter could see Lucy sitting in one of the two armchairs staring at the TV, but she apparently wasn't neither paying attention to the program, nor did she notice him. She was so lost in thoughts that she didn't react when Peter approached her from the side and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Mom," he said softly.

Lucy turned around and looked at her oldest son for a long moment. "Oh, Peter...," she sighed, stood up and fell around his neck.

At the same time the Lab was on his feet and came running towards the visitors, happily wagging his tail.

Robert took a step forward and knelt down to pat the dog. Spot's attention was now focused entirely on Robert. A few moments later all was forgotten and Spot went back to his dog basket.

Peter took one more deep breath and replied his mother's embrace while he gently stroked her back. "Everything will be okay, don't worry."

A few moments later she took a step back and rubbed her eyes, slightly astonished. "What are you doing here?" She asked him. It was obvious that she was confused and somewhat messed up.

"I told you that Peter was on the way," Robert said, stood up and shrugged with his shoulders as he looked at Peter.

Clearing his throat, Peter answered, "I drove here as fast as I could, to be with you."

After hearing that, Lucy burst out in tears. Her whole body was shaking.

Peter felt uneasy. Crying women always made him feel that way. A bit hesitant he put his arms around her because he was unsure what to do. Lucy was at least 12 inches shorter than him, but to him she had always been a confident, strong woman. Quite contrary to his memories, Lucy now seemed very fragile while she stood in the middle of the room. The silence was broken by the soft sobs from her.

"I-I'm sorry," she sniffed after a few moments and pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket. She dried her tears and then blew her nose.

"No problem," Peter replied, but also had to swallow hard to keep himself under control. He quickly exchanged a glance with Robert and said to his mother, "Let's sit down."

Lucy reluctantly obeyed and looked at Spot, who leisurely lounged there, but didn't let his people out of his sight. "He saved Dad's life," she said, sobbing.

"What exactly happened?" Peter asked. "We haven't had the time to talk about it."

"I left around 9 am and got a call from Mr. Cagle around 11 am. He had called an ambulance after he had looked out of the window because Spot wouldn't stop barking."

The investigator in Peter spoke up. "How could Mr. Cagle have known that Dad needed an ambulance just because Spot barked?"

Lucy pointed to the window. "Dad suffered the heart attack outside. Mr. Cagle could see him laying on the ground," she explained quietly and remained silent. Her lower lip began to tremble.

Sensing her sudden mood change, Peter leaned forward and looked at her anxiously. "What's up?"

Again, tears began forming in her eyes. "That was my fault...," she finally managed to say. "If I hadn't insisted that he should get Buddha down out of the tree, nothing would have happened."

Confused, Peter looked at her. "Why should you be the one to blame? It's not your fault. And who is Buddha anyway?" Peter felt lost and looked at Robert, who already was about to reply.

But Lucy was faster. "Our cat," she murmured. "Basically he doesn't come down a tree once he made it up there. Like this morning. I asked Bill to get him down." She sniffed a few times.

In the meantime Peter had wandered to the window and looked outside and saw the ladder still leaning at the tree. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he thought about it what had happened a couple of hours before.

Robert stood beside him. "I have to go. Pam is supposed to be back home soon. And I have to work on some urgent projects that can't be delayed."

"That's okay, my boy," Lucy answered who had watched her two sons. "I understand that."

After Robert was gone, Lucy sighed and then smiled at Peter. "Are you hungry? How about a steak?"

"You don't need to-," Peter said, but then stopped. "Hm, did you say steak?" 

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**A/N: If you are interested in reading my stories in German, write me an pm and I will give you the link.  
**

**Tuesday Morning**  
8 am

When Peter woke up the next morning, he was whacked. The night had been strange, because falling asleep and waking up without El didn't feel right. The evening before he had worried about his mother, who had been so upset that she had started to wander around in the house. Fortunately Robert and Pamela had come back earlier and the three of them had been able to convince her to lie down. After that he had been laying awake for a long time.

Dressed with blue jeans and blue/white button down shirt he walked down the stairs. When he came into the kitchen he met Jeremy and Amy who were busy preparing the table for breakfast. The two had been shocked, too of course after they had heard about their grandfather. Robert had come home and wanted to take the children with him, but the two had insisted on staying with their grandmother. Pamela had stayed here last afternoon and had taken the kids home afterwards. It hadn't taken long for the two children to nag their parents about going back to Lucy. Therefore, Robert and Pam had returned them last evening.

"Uncle Peter," the two almost simultaneously greeted him and rushed towards him.

Peter knelt down and hugged them both. "Hey, you two," he smiled and looked around. "Where's grandma?"

"She's in the basement," Jeremy answered. "To get some jam." The children continued to set the table.

Lucy walked into the kitchen a short while later. When she saw the empty chair from her husband at the table, she fought hard not to lose her composure.

"Good morning, Mom," Peter smiled at her and walked to her.

"Hello my boy," she answered and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a rock," Peter nodded, although it wasn't true and he still felt exhausted. "Robert is coming at 9 am so we can go visit Dad," he told her. Turning towards the children, he said, "Neal will be staying with you while we're gone." Yet, nobody knew about Bill's condition, so they decided to leave the kids at home. Nevertheless, Peter felt more comfortable if Neal would take care of the children in the meantime. Or vice versa. Whatever worked better.

"Who is Neal?" Amy wanted to know.

"Oh, that's my partner at the FBI and he came with me," he told her and sat down at the table while Lucy was busy at the stove. "He will stay here while we're going to see grandpa."

"Do you want scrambled eggs?" Lucy asked. "With bacon? I know that you love it."

"Uhm, I don't know," Peter stammered, thinking of Elizabeth and how she would react if she would find out. He certainly would pay a high price if she knew what he was going to eat. She always cared about his diet. And THIS wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she talked about healthy nutrition. "Maybe a little bit."

"Do you need to pick your partner up? He's at the hotel, right?"

Peter flipped through the newspaper and replied without looking up, "Yes, he's at the William Henry Miller Inn. And no, I don't need to pick him up. Neal met an old friend last night and that man will bring him here." To be honest, this fact didn't surprise him as he had learned about it after he had talked with Neal over the phone. Neal's circle of acquaintances was huge and the world small after all.

After breakfast they still stayed at the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Peter nodded. "I'm answering it. Must be Robert." Shortly afterwards, the brothers came back, where Robert first greeted his mother and then was hugged by his kids.

"As soon as Neal's here, we are free to go," Peter told them, looking at his watch. They had agreed to meet at 9.15. Now it was 9.08 am.

"I'll be right back," Lucy smiled and went up to the second floor to get the travel bag for Bill, in which she had packed a few personal belongings of her husband.

After Lucy was gone, Peter went to his brother. "How's the job?"

"Can't complain," Robert answered.

"And Dad is still working at the office." This wasn't a question. Peter shook his head. "He should reduce work time."

"We always tell him that, but so far we fall on deaf ears. You know him. He just can't let go." Robert grinned crookedly. "But who am I talking to, Mr. Workaholic?"

"I'm not that bad," Peter shot back immediately.

"No, not at all," Robert said with a broad grin. "Although I've heard some rumors that say otherwise. From a confidential source."

"You mean El, right?"

"Wow. I must say you have a quick mind. I'm impressed."

"There's a reason why I'm working with the FBI you know," Peter laughed. It felt good to joke with his brother. Even if their meeting had a serious background.

"Speaking of...where's your partner?"

"He should be here any second," Peter nodded. If he was sure about one thing, it was that Neal always was on time.

...

**William Henry Miller Inn**

**9.05 am**

"We're running late," Neal said and frowned, wondering if he should call Peter in the first place. Last night after he had met Rick, plenty of alcohol had been poured. But Neal was professional enough to hide his headache caused by too much alcohol and too little sleep. A quick side glance at his driver told him that they needed more coffee. So he got back to the hotel to get another freshly brewed coffee. His own cup was already half empty and he wouldn't mind a second one. But too much caffeine wouldn't do him any good, especially if he was going to meet Peter's family. The first impression was very important and Neal didn't want to ruin that. Because he was traveling, he didn't wear one of his usual Devore suits, but dark jeans and a light blue shirt along with a grey/blue striped tie.

Rick leaned against the hood and shook his head. He was wearing sunglasses which was probably due to the fact that he, too, had a hangover. "Relax. It'll be only a few minutes. You make it sound like the end of the world," he replied calmly and climbed back into the car. "What's the address?" He asked and tried to turn on the navigation system. Unlike Neal, however, he seemed not fully awake yet because he needed a few attempts to find the right buttons.

"Good question," Neal admitted, setting the cup onto the dashboard before he took out his cell phone. He had to call Peter anyway. Even though it was already obvious that they were running late. "Good morning, Peter," he greeted his friend. "My driver was late." With a quick glance at Rick, he continued, "I was perfectly on time, just for you to know." This statement caused a slight nudge on his upper arm from Rick. But he should have known better. Rick had always been a golden boy and took life the easy way. Neal was actually cast in the same mould, but when it came to appointments, his sense of duty was much more pronounced. "Oh, and I need your address."

Sighing, Rick started the engine and even managed to type in the data. "I still feel tired out. Hopefully the caffeine kicks in shortly. Otherwise my speech won't be entertaining enough."

"Well, well. You're getting old," Neal teased him and sipped his coffee.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, my mistake. You ARE old."

"One more word and you're going to walk over there." Rick shook his head and wanted to add something, but Neal beat him.

"Too bad I can't attend your lecture." He skillfully changed the subject with his innocent smile. "Sounds very interesting. Especially the female audience will be present in large numbers, I suppose."

"You still can come with me."

"Unfortunately, no. Peter has other plans for me. And speaking of, we should really go now. You can drink your coffee while you drive." He ostentatiously put on the seat belt. "Hurry up!"

"Since when do you take orders from others and let them dictate what to do?" Rick didn't seem to hurry up at all, but then he stepped on the gas pedal.

"Since I've started to work for the FBI," Neal answered, looking at the display of his cell phone. 9.12! Damn! They would definitely run late. "That's part of the deal."

"Just call this Peter and tell him that we have a breakdown. Or something like that. You're good at improvising."

Neal grinned. "Thanks. But I can't. He knows where I am." To underline his statement, he lifted his left leg pant, revealing the anklet. "Remember?"

"Oh, right. Isn't that annoying?" Rick looked at him for a split second before he set his eyes back on the road. He seemed to consider. "This is an interesting situation. You are free and still you can't move freely. Trapped in a different kind of prison."

"Well, yes, I knew what I was getting myself into. And it's not forever. Only one more year. Then this here," he pointed to the anklet, "will all belong to the past."

They stopped at a red light and Rick used the break to drink his cup. "Have you ever thought about your future?"

"It's not easy to find a well-paid job when you're a convicted felon, that's for sure," Neal admitted honestly. They had briefly discussed this issue last night. "Maybe I'll stay with the FBI. I like it here and my colleagues are fantastic. However, the payment could be better."

...

Standing in the driveway, Peter looked down the street. A few minutes ago he had talked to Neal and had learned that his partner and his friend were on their way. It was unusual having to wait for Neal. _Well, there's a first time for everything_, he thought, looking at his watch again. 9.28 am. His nervousness rose. Basically, he had no idea where Neal was right now and if he had told him the truth about being on the way. On the other hand - where else should Neal go?

With each passing minute, Peter felt more uncomfortable. They should have been on their way to the hospital a long time ago. Robert and his mother had already packed the stuff in the car and even if neither of them said it aloud, they were just as tense as he was. All they wanted was to see William as soon as possible. Peter sighed and pulled out his phone for the second time and dialed Neal's number. Before he could say anything, he heard his voice.

_"We just turned into the street, Peter."_

Still holding the cell phone on his ear, Peter went to the road and looked in both directions. In fact, a silver car slowly drove down the street and he smiled in relief. With his free hand he waved to the driver, but the man made no attempt to stop and simply drove on. "Neal," Peter whispered into the phone, "I warn you. If this is one of your jokes, then..."

_"What are you talking about? We're almost there."_

"What kind of car do you drive?"

_"It's a black Ford Escape SUV. And I don't want to hear anything about that name."_

Just as Peter's patience gave out, he saw the SUV and deeply breathed in and out for a few times. "I see you."

_"Vice versa."_

Peter hung up and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The car stopped and the passenger door was opened immediately. Neal got out and began to apologize.

"I'm very sorry that we are late, Peter. I know that you have-"

"What's important right now is that you are finally here," he interrupted and eyed Rick in his typical FBI fashion, who also had stepped out. The man seemed about the same age and size like himself. "I suppose that's your old friend?"

"Richard Castle. Nice to meet you," Castle said and shook Peter's hand. After that he took off his sunglasses and blinked. "I'm sorry about the delay."

"Peter Burke," he nodded and returned the gesture. "It wouldn't have been a problem if we hadn't had an important appointment." He looked at Neal, and put his hand on Neal's upper arm. "Can I talk to you in private for a minute?"

Rick was faster. "I don't want to disturb you any longer. In fact, I should leave for college anyway."

"You are a teacher?" Peter wanted to know, because the investigator in him was always vigilant and somehow the name Richard Castle sounded familiar to him. Besides, he was sure he had seen this face before. On a wanted poster from the FBI? Or maybe in a case file? Did this guy have a common past with Neal? Was this man more than "just an old friend"? Probably a partner in crime.

"Oh no, Mr. Burke. I'm a writer and I'm going to give a lecture about creative writing."

"Ah, okay," Peter said, but at the same time made a mental note. Maybe this was the reason he had heard about the name. Hadn't Elizabeth raved about those books? Out of precaution he would later call Jones or Diana. Better be safe than sorry. "Then I wish you success, Mr. Castle."

"Thank you," Rick said and turned to Neal. "We'll talk later, buddy." Then he got into the car and drove away.

"Okay," Peter exhaled. "Listen, I don't know how long we'll be gone. If anything comes up, don't hesitate to call me." Admonishing he raised his index finger. "No monkey business, got it?"

"I'm honored again and again how much confidence you have in me." Neal let his eyes wander over the estate and muttered, "Hmm...no cameras...is there an alarm system?"

"Neal!"

"Hey, just asking. In case the alarm goes off by mistake shouldn't I-"

"By mistake?!"

"You know what I mean," Neal smiled and tried to look as innocent as possible and shrugged briefly. "I don't want to cause any uproar, you know."

Peter looked at him irresolutely, as he debated with himself whether he should tell Neal the truth. "I know I might regret it later what I'm telling you now." He paused for a moment. "But there's no alarm system. This is a safe neighborhood. At least it was safe until now. Because now you are here."

"Like I would do anything unlawful."

"I made an inventory of the house."

"Exactly what I've been expecting," Neal said. His blue eyes flashed briefly. "Peter, you can trust me." On his face appeared his patented 100 megawatt grin, while he adjusted his already immaculate sitting tie.

"Whenever you start grinning like that, I'm starting to get worried." Peter noticed that Neal was looking at someone behind him and turned around. He sighed when he saw his mother and brother standing there. "Okay, back to business. Neal..."

Neal looked at him with puppy dog eyes. "Relax, Peter." Confident as ever, he went to Lucy and held out his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Burke," he greeted her with his charming smile. "I'm Neal Caffrey."

Lucy seemed reluctant and studied him before she took his hand. "So you're the forger Peter had chased for so long and in the end arrested you three times?"

Neal nodded as he shook hands. "Yes, that's me and yes, he has." Taking a step back to the side, he leaned over to Peter. With a low voice he asked him, "Is there anyone at all who doesn't know about this 3:0 thing? Whereby the third one doesn't count."

Grinning broadly Peter stretched his back. "I was very proud of my success and I might have bragged a little about it."

"Just a little?"

"Well, it may be that from time to time I..."

"Anyway," Neal changed the subject and smiled at Lucy. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances and I hope that your husband will be better soon. Peter told me that his condition is stable?"

Lucy nodded. "We are confident."

Robert spoke up. "Pete, do you really think that it is a good idea to let him into the house?" He obviously wasn't comfortable with idea of letting Neal take care of his children.

Stepping even closer to Peter, so he could whisper to him, Neal said, "What exactly did you tell them about me?"

"I trust him, Rob. Otherwise I wouldn't have made the suggestion." With a quick side glance at his friend, he continued, "He wouldn't do anything illegal. Am I right about that, Neal?"

"No way." With his most innocent look Neal smiled and held out his hand to Robert. "Scout's honor."

Robert seemed not fully convinced yet, but nevertheless returned the gesture.

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Cayuga Medical Center**  
**10 am**

The ride to the hospital was held mostly in silence, while Robert steered the car through the traffic.

At the hospital Lucy led the way since she had been there yesterday. She remembered everything clearly because she had been wandering around the other day while she had waited for the test results.

Peter and Robert followed her with some distance. They entered the ICU and had to call for a nurse first who opened the connection door to the station. Then they were told to disinfect their hands. The nurse told them that the doctor would be here soon.

William was connected to several devices and laid on the bed with half closed eyes, but he didn't notice his visitors. The machines worked and peeped incessantly. Normally one couldn't tell that William was 72 years old, but right now he seemed to be aged by 10 years. His white hair was uncombed.

Lucy stood beside him and gently stroked his beard as she spoke softly to him. "We are all here now, dear." She gestured at the two to step closer.

Peter looked in Robert's direction and then walked to the other side of the bed and took the left hand of his father. "Hey Dad," he said and smiled as William actually responded to his voice and turned his head towards Peter.

William blinked a few times and seemed to consider. "Petey...," he whispered and weakly squeezed Peter's hand.

"Surprised to see me, huh?" Peter grinned and touched his father's head.

"Yes," William murmured. Turning his head back towards Lucy and Robert, he asked, "What...happened?"

"You're in the hospital, but everything will be fine." Lucy spoke softly to him and still held his right hand in hers. "Robert is here, too."

Exhausted, William nodded and closed his eyes.

"He's tired because of the drugs," Lucy explained, echoing the words of Dr. Teabing with whom she had talked yesterday.

As if on cue, the man entered the room and greeted everyone. "Good morning, my name is Dr. Teabing." After that he directly spoke to Lucy. "Mrs. Burke, I can assure you that he has already made progress. There were no incidents during the night, so I'm really pleased." After a brief pause, he continued, "Today we will start to mobilize him little by little, get him moving again."

Peter nodded. "Good. I suppose that the lab results show no alarmingly signs? What about his ECG? And why is his chest bandaged?" Without further ado, as always, Peter was straight forward.

The doctor looked puzzled for a moment. "Um, yes, although some cardio-vascular levels are still at a upper limit, the rest shows significant positive changes. The long-term ECG shows no other significant arrhythmias," he said, looking at the medical file. "The fall down the ladder caused two bruised ribs. All in all he had been very lucky. Thanks to the quick response of your neighbor, the effects of the heart attack are minor."

"But he was so confused yesterday," Lucy pointed out. "He always said that someone wanted to murder him."

With a raised eyebrow, Peter looked at her. "You didn't tell me that."

"I think it's safe to say that that is a side-effect from the morphine. It's not unusual to cause hallucinations," Dr. Teabing explained and looked at his watch. "If you have any more questions, you can page me. Have a nice day."

The three stayed with William for a time, who woke up several times after the visit from Dr. Teabing. Just as they wanted to leave and Peter started to say goodbye to him, William suddenly took his hand and didn't let go. He seemed to be attentively as he got up a bit and slightly moved towards Peter. Surprised by this gesture, Peter waited for another reaction.

"Petey! Petey!" William's voice was hoarse and his eyes were big as he looked at his son. "Murder!"

Frowning, Peter leaned down to speak with his father. "Dad, it's alright. You're still a little bit confused. Nobody here wants to hurt you."

"No, no." William shook his head franticly. "A murder...I've seen...a murder!" Sighing, he let himself sink back. "On the neighboring property..."

Peter was still skeptical. "You're watching too much TV," he smirked slightly and looked at his mother and brother and shrugged with his shoulders.

Still, William didn't back down. "I've seen it!" Breathing hard, he swallowed. "The Gordons."

"The Gordons moved out last October," Robert objected and seemed also confused.

Peter noticed the strain it took for William to make his point, as the machines peeped alarmingly. "Dad, take it easy. Relax. I...," he thought for a moment, "...I'll take a look, okay? After we get home. Alright?"

"Okay," William nodded and sighed. "Promise it, son."

Actually, Peter had no intention to investigate, but at the moment it seemed appropriate to tell William a white lie. Making eye contact with Robert, Peter nodded. "I promise."

"You're a good boy," William smiled vaguely and let go of Peter's hand. "I'm tired."

Lucy went to the bed and stroked his temple. "We will let you sleep then and come back later, darling."

...

**At the Burkes**  
9.45 am

The meeting with Peter's family unfortunately had been shorter than planned and Neal was disappointed by the fact. Peter had introduced the children and the dog to him, before they had left for the hospital.

But of course Neal had fully understood the hasty departure. Nevertheless, there were still the kids he had to take care of so he didn't mind. Standing at the front door, he waved his goodbye to the Burkes and watched them leave by car. As he turned around, he saw Jeremy and Amy in the hallway. Amy seemed to be shy and stood close to her big brother.

With a mischievous grin, the boy asked, "So, you're with the FBI like Uncle Pete?"

"Well," Neal said and grinned as he heard the nickname. "Basically, yes."

"Basically?"

How could he explain his work situation without giving away too much? Plus, he didn't know how much Peter had told him. "I work as a consultant."

"Then you're no agent?" Jeremy studied him closely. "You don't look like one at all."

"No, I'm not an agent." Neal involuntarily looked down at himself. The boy was right. With the stubble, the jeans and shirt he hardly corresponded with the usual "Special Agent Peter Burke" FBI standard.

"Are you a police man, then?"

"Not that either."

"Then what you are?"

Neal thought for a moment. "Oh, um, I'm...I'm working as an informant."

"And what are you doing exactly?"

"I consult. Gathering and delivering information."

Jeremy's facial expression showed his boredom.

"I read case files, look for solutions and give hints," Neal tried to explain. "Point out details, analyze crimes and help your uncle to catch criminals." Listening to himself, Neal had to admit that it sounded very lame.

"That doesn't sound very exciting." Unimpressed Jeremy stuffed his hands into the pant pockets and looked at Amy. "C'mon. Let's play Wii."

_Well,_ Neal thought, _that went smooth._ He watched after them as they ran down the hallway. Suddenly he felt redundant. But he had no choice but to join them. "Don't you have something else to entertain yourself?" Today's youth was too much attached to electronic equipment and had lost sight of the essentials.

Jeremy looked over his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Something that doesn't require electricity?"

"And what would that be?"

Neal raised his hand and began to enumerate. "Reading? Painting? Board games? Pool? Poker?" In response, he got a giggle from Amy and a snort from Jeremy. _That'll be fun, _Neal shook his head.

For the first time, Amy spoke, still laughing. "You're weird."

...

**Cayuga Medical Center**  
1 pm

In front of the entrance, Robert turned to Lucy and Peter. "What are your plans for today?"

Peter thought about it and looked at Lucy. "To be honest, I could use something to eat. Shall we go to a restaurant?"

Lucy waved a hand. "I'm not hungry."

"But you should eat something," Peter insisted. "I don't want you to faint." In fact, the 68-year old looked pale and fragile.

"Peter is right, Mom," Robert stepped in and looked at his watch. "I wouldn't mind taking lunch." He hesitated. "But what about Neal?"

"What about him?"

"Shouldn't we head home?"

Peter shook his head. So far he had received neither a phone call nor a text from Neal, so everything was fine. "He can take of himself. He's a grown man after all."

...

**At the Burkes**  
1.15 pm

"Oh, c'mon! How old are you? Five?" Jeremy stood in front of Neal, with his hands on his hips. "You are cheating!"

_My goodness, that's a mini-Peter_, Neal thought and tried hard not to laugh out loud. _The same facial expressions and gestures. That's really scary._ "I do not!" It had cost him a lot of persuasion (was it just him, or was it actually harder to convince others these days? These kids had been persistent for a long time) to talk them into playing board games. But in the end he had been successful.

By now he was very good with them. They had eaten homemade hamburgers for lunch and afterwards washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. After that they had moved into the living room and had various games spread around them on the floor.

"Of course you do!" With his index finger Jeremy pointed at the Parcheesi game in front of them on the coffee table. "You reversed the hat!"

Neal turned to Amy, who sat beside him on the couch and winked at her. "Did you see anything?" The more time they had spent together, the more the little girl became less reserved. Amy participated actively. Neal had charmed her quickly and was now - of course - taking advantage of it.

She grinned back and shook her head vehemently. Her two braids swirled in the air. "Nope."

The boy was good, so much Neal had to admit. Jeremy was bright and a quick learner. And had eager eyes. It wasn't as if he intentionally cheated, though, yeah, he had intentionally cheated. But just because Jeremy had only agreed to the board games if he had the right to determine the next game for the Wii in case he won the Parcheesi game. And Neal wasn't in the mood for shooting games. Now his goal was to buy time until Peter and the others would return. "Okay, let's start all over again then."

...

**Mahogany Grill**  
2 pm

After they had placed their orders, the three enjoyed the pleasant afternoon sun at one of the tables that were set outside of the restaurant. As he sipped his beer, Peter's cell phone rang. "Hey, Hon," he greeted his wife after he had seen the caller-ID and smiled.

_"Hi, Hon. Any news from Bill?"_

"We just visited him," Peter answered. "He's still a bit messed up, but as far as I can tell, he's doing fine considering the circumstances. His attending physician is confident that he's back on his feet, soon."

_"That is wonderful news. Please say hello to Lucy."_

"Oh, she's here with me. We're in town for lunch. Would you like to talk to her?"

_"I'd love to. It's 11 am here and I'm having lunch with my client later on. We'll talk later tonight?"_

"Sounds good to me. I wish you a nice day, Hon."

"The same to you, Hon. Later!"

Peter handed his cell phone to Lucy.

Robert took the opportunity and slid closer to his brother. "And what do you think of Dad?"

"What do you mean?" Peter asked the counter question.

"Well, the thing with the murder Dad talked about?"

"You've heard the doctor. Hallucinations caused by the drugs. Figment of the imagination. That's all." Peter leaned back on his chair and looked at Robert. "And besides, you said yourself that the Gordons have moved out."

"So that means you'll do nothing?"

Peter knew what Robert was up to. "You mean, because I've said I would take a look?"

The waiter brought the chopped Mediterranean salad for Lucy as well as the honeysuckle roast beef sandwich for Robert and the char-grilled 8oz Black Angus burger for Peter.

Robert nodded. "Yeah."

"Sure, I can take a look and ask the neighbors," Peter answered, rubbing his hands in anticipation at the sight of the burger. With relish he took a bite and chewed on it with closed eyes. 8oz of pure Black Angus meat. Hallelujah! Fortunately Elizabeth was on the other side of the country, because she would reproachfully give him a stern look. After he had swallowed, he said, "But you shouldn't have great expectations, though."

...

**At the Burkes**  
4.30 pm

When Lucy, Robert and Peter got out of the car, Peter paused and eyed the property vigilantly. It was almost disturbing that Neal hadn't called. His gut feeling told him to be alert. "I don't want to know what the three of them got up to," he muttered under his breath.

Robert turned around. "Come again?"

"Oh, I, uh, I was just thinking out loud."

Lucy had opened the front door and waved them into the house.

The closer they got to the living room, the more they could hear music and laughter. Peter raised an eyebrow and stopped. A grin appeared on his face. The music didn't come out of the stereo, but from the TV. But much more interesting was the fact that in that very moment two totally psyched laughing children and a grown up looking man were moving to the song "Hot stuff" from Donna Summer and didn't take their eyes from the screen. Thus, they didn't notice that they were being watched.

"What's that?" Peter asked, his brow still furrowed.

"Oh, that's one of those karaoke games. The difference is, you don't sing, but dance to whatever's on the screen. The PlayStation has kind of a motion sensor and in the end the one who danced best wins," Robert explained grinning. "Pam and I have to do it from time to time." He watched the three and added, "Your boy isn't that bad at all."

"My...what?" Peter nudged Robert and looked at Neal. He nodded approvingly when he answered, "Yeah, you're right."

The song ended and Neal suddenly seemed to sense that someone else was in the room. He turned around, still gasping for air and put the remote on the table. "Oh, you're back?" He stopped and corrected his question. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to admire your dance routine, Travolta," Peter smiled and was glad that Neal had been the one to participate, for he himself would have failed miserably. He was sure he would have only earned scorn and ridicule from Jeremy and Amy for his dance moves.

Still slightly out of breath, Neal quickly adjusted his tie that had loosened during the dancing. "How is your husband? If you don't mind the question."

Lucy seemed pleased. "His condition remains stable and we are all happy about it. The doctor said that he has already made progress." She turned towards Peter. "Such a nice young man. I mean, for a convicted felon he's very gallant."

"Oh, sure. Because of this, he's also under constant surveillance," Peter pointed out flatly. "He can sell light switches to the Amish if he needs to." Of course he hadn't missed the fact that Neal had succeed to wrap another woman round his little finger.

"Don't worry. Everything's still here," Neal replied calmly. Apparently he had expected such a response from Peter. "I didn't leave the house."

"It would be wise," Peter murmured. He knew his friend well enough to read between the lines. The 'I didn't leave the house' could also mean that Neal had inspected the whole house. But to cause no trouble, Peter kept this for himself. And somehow his gut feeling told him that Neal had told the truth and hadn't done anything wrong.

"And? What have you been doing?" Robert asked his children. "Aside from playing Wii?"

"Neal made us hamburgers!" Amy told with shining eyes.

"Yeah, yummy!" Jeremy agreed.

"Really?" Robert seemed to have accepted the situation, but was still distant to Neal.

"I hope you don't mind. But I didn't want to call the delivery service and the kids meant that you had bought the stuff for the picnic yesterday and I-," Neal spoke up, sounding uncertain.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Lucy shook her head.

"And after that we've played a lot of games," Amy grinned.

"Neal cheated," Jeremy interrupted her. "I've seen it!"

Peter looked at Neal and raised an eyebrow.

Grinning broadly, Neal put his hands in his pockets, shrugged and bobbed slightly up and down while he had his 'Who? Me?' expression on his face.

Robert's expressions though, spoke volumes. He cleared his throat. "Okay, kiddos. Grab your things, we're going home." The school had reversed the quarantine after the suspected virus hadn't been confirmed.

"But we're not even finished!" Amy interjected and looked at her father with big pleading eyes. "Just one more song. Please!"

"No, I have to go back to the office. I'll drop you off at home," Robert insisted.

Jeremy supported his little sister. "But Dad! Just one more song!

"Before this degenerates into an argument," Neal suggested, "and in order to shorten the whole thing, I would say one more song couldn't hurt. That's...what...3 to 4 minutes?" He looked at Robert. "I mean, unless you want to deal with two pouting children for the rest of the evening?"

Peter approached Robert. "Even though I hate to admit it, but Neal's proposal sounds good. It's only 3 to 4 minutes."

Jeremy and Amy were already dealing with the PlayStation and sought out a song. Amy came back after a few seconds and pressed something in Peter's hand. "You're in."

Peter looked baffled at his hand and recognized some kind of remote control. "Oh, no Amy. I'm not good at dancing."

Just like she had played with her father, the girl positioned himself in front of Peter. "Oh, c'mon!"

"Peter," Neal said, beaming. "You said it yourself. It's only 3 to 4 minutes. Or do you want to apply as a coward?"

Even though Peter knew that Neal had said that on purpose to challenge him, he finally agreed. His ambition was aroused. "You call me a coward?" He asked, pointing to Neal. "Well then, brace yourself." Determined, he rolled up his shirt sleeves. After all, he had taken a salsa course with El and had danced tango with the woman who became known as the Black Widow. What could go wrong then?

Amy and Jeremy found the thought of dancing with the adults very amusing and after a last glance back over his shoulder pushed the start button. It was obvious that they knew the songs and moves by heart.

Neal also seemed very composed and concentrated for a moment as the first bars of Ke$ha's "TikTok" rang out. Then he began to follow the shown choreography.

Peter, however, swallowed hard. What the hell kind of music was that?! This wasn't the kind of music he was used to, but he couldn't back down now, because he didn't want to be a spoilsport either.

_to be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

After the longest four minutes of his life, lots of laughter from Amy and Jeremy and some applause from the two spectators, Peter was more than relieved when the children collected the remotes, still giggling. It hadn't surprised him that Neal had shown the best performance from all. However, he was also aware that from now on Neal would tease him because of his dance interlude. Still out of breath, he looked at his brother and mother who seemed very amused. After all, Peter was very grateful that nobody had videotaped this session.

A short time later, after Robert had gone home with the children, Peter and Neal gathered around the kitchen table where Lucy served them lemonade. "I'm going to call Aunt Rachel," she said and left the room. "She's waiting for updates."

"How's your dad?" Neal wanted to know after they were the only two left.

Peter drew in a deep breath. "Better." But to be honest, he was still a bit shocked about the sight of his father earlier. He hadn't seen him this weak and fragile before. With one hand he rubbed his face, because he could feel the exhaustion overpower him slowly.

"I don't know him, but I know you. And I think, no, I'm convinced that if you both have something in common, then William is tough and will fight back," Neal said softly.

Peter looked at his friend and smiled. "Yeah, I think so, too." Since his mother wasn't here, he could speak freely. "Although I must admit that he's quite shaken and I've never seen him like that before. And he acted strange, you know. Babbling nonsense, that kind of stuff."

"Nonsense?" Neal raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"He's convinced he witnessed a murder." Peter pointed to the window. "On the neighboring property. Only moments before he suffered the heart attack."

"A murder? Oh, that's...," Neal searched for the right words, "...no idea. Unusual." He immediately stood up and walked to the window to look outside.

Peter shook his head. "His physician said it isn't unusual since the drugs may cause hallucinations."

"But you don't think so?" Neal asked and still looked outside.

"Dad was so upset that I promised him to take look to calm him down."

Neal came back to the table and took a sip before he answered, "So, what are you waiting for? Let's take a look."

Of course Peter didn't miss that Neal was very eager to get into action, so he tried to counteract. "I think that would lead to nothing. Robert told me that the house has been sold. The new owner is here only sporadically."

"Judged by the sight of the garden, that seems to be true. But you know that appearances can be deceiving."

And with that Neal had hit the nail on the head. Now Peter was really unsure what to do, because on the one hand he was curious. On the other hand, everything was more than implausible. And he wasn't eager to make a fool of himself. "I don't know, Neal."

"What of it! It's not like we would break in." Like to be expected, Neal was very impressed by his idea. "It would be more like we're reaching in."

"Don't you dare!"

"What shouldn't he dare, Peter?"

Surprised to hear his mother's voice, Peter turned around. "Oh, nothing Mom." Silently he exchanged a glance with Neal and cleared his throat. He secretly hoped that Neal would take the hint.

Lucy seemed not fully convinced, but she didn't comment any further in this regard. "Aunt Rachel is coming over tomorrow and will join us when we go visit Bill. I'll be baking cheesecake. He likes it so much, just like you." Then she began to prepare and got the utensils out of the cupboards. "Do you want some more lemonade?"

"No, thanks Mrs. Burke. I should better be going," Neal said, standing up. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Lucy smiled fondly. "My pleasure."

"Please tell your husband my get well wishes."

"Thank you, I'll do that."

Relieved, that Neal played along, Peter stood up and couldn't help but grin because he could see that his mother was quite taken by Neal. Although this was to be expected. "Any plans for the evening?" He wanted to know from Neal and made a gesture to his friend to follow him.

"I haven't planned on something," Neal said while he followed Peter. "But if I meet Rick again, I'll make sure to go to bed way earlier."

"How did you get to know each other at all?" He remembered that he had forgotten to call Jones in regards of Rick Castle. But for now he would listen to Neal's version first and then he still could decide whether to call his colleague or not. They walked slowly towards the front door.

"Oh, that's a long story," Neal waved his hand. "And totally boring anyway."

Peter didn't let go. "Why don't you let me decide whether your story is entertaining or not. And now I want to hear facts."

Neal looked at him, frowning, before he said, "You don't trust him, do you?"

"I'm always suspicious when it comes to your friends."

"Thank you very much."

Peter smirked. "After all, he looks more trustworthy than Mozzie."

"Rick is an upstanding citizen," Neal defended his friend. "He's a very successful writer who also works with NYPD. You can check that." Only a second later, Neal added, "You already did, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Peter replied with a shrug and an innocent expression that not even Neal could have done better.

"But you wanted to, admit it!"

"Yes, that's right. But I haven't had the opportunity to." There was no point in trying to tell Neal something else. Therefore they both knew each other too well. "And I'll do it, depending on how credible your story is."

There was a brief pause in which Neal played with his tie. "Basically, we met each other by chance," he started. "About ten years ago, he held a lecture from one of his new novels and I was in the bookstore because I'd searched for a special book for...Kate...Rick's lecture was quite interesting and I talked to him afterwards, pointing out some errors in his account of one of his fictional characters. After that, we couldn't stay in contact, for reasons you may know."

"You were on the run some time later," Peter nodded. "And in prison after that."

"Exactly. Later on, we met by chance once more. Rick has participated in a program in order to get inmates interested in literature. Back then I was working at the library." Again, he paused for a moment. They had reached the door. "He was obviously very surprised to see me inside that...facility, but he talked to me without any prejudgment and thanked me for the advice I'd given him at our first meeting. We talked for hours. And in the end...he created a new character based on my facts." Neal was grinning broadly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Peter sighed.

Without going into Peter's comment, Neal said, "We started to write letters about - alleged - art thefts and things like that, you know. Rick takes his work very seriously, even if his attitude says otherwise."

"By now he has improved the kind of audience. From prison inmates to college students," Peter commented dryly.

"Probably because the proportion of women in college is much higher than in jail." Suddenly Neal began to laugh. "Warden Haskley wasn't very pleased with my pen pal I think. But there was nothing he could do against it."

"And even if he could have done something, you would have found a way to stay in contact. You love the challenge."

"Just like you."

Peter took the car keys from the wardrobe in the hallway. "I'll drive you back to the hotel. Thank you for taking care of the children."

"I can call a cab," Neal suggested, before he nodded, "No problem. Though, I guess that you just wanted to make sure I stayed out of trouble."

"My plan worked, right?" Peter grinned.

Suddenly they heard Lucy's voice from the kitchen. "Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"I need your help. The cat is on the tree. Again," she said with a sigh as she approached the two men.

After a glance towards Neal, Peter said, "Where's the ladder?"

"Robert has put it back into the garage."

Peter said to Neal, "You're a good climber. Wasn't there a theft of two Van Gogh's back in 2002?"

"You mean the business in Amsterdam?"

"Yes."

"Where the thief got access to the roof with a long ladder?"

"Right."

"And then roped down next to the main entrance?"

"Exactly."

Neal smiled mischievously. "I've heard of it."

"Only heard of it? Then why can I remember reading your name in one of the files? I thought you were involved?"

"Allegedly."

...

The more Peter tried to get hold of the cat, the higher the animal climbed to the top. He had made the first attempt to rescue Buddha. However, he hadn't expected the perseverance of the cat. At the end of his patience, Peter muttered, "And if I have to cut tree to the ground by myself...the tomcat must come down."

Neal had his arms crossed and surveyed the scene. "I don't think your mother would agree to that."

Peter was still standing on the ladder and looked at the cat. _I could swear he laughs at me._ "Oh, thanks. Any other ideas, Einstein?"

"Maybe we should just wait until it will be regulated by nature," Neal suggested. "At some point the branches get too thin. As thick as Buddha is, he can't get up any higher. It's only a matter of time until one branch can't resist any longer. At the end, gravity always wins."

"You're mean," Peter said with a wry smile, because secretly he had thought the same. The difference was, he hadn't said it - in contrast to Neal - not out loud.

"No, just honest."

Peter took a deep breath and got down the ladder. "Here," he said to Neal and offered him a candy bar. "Comfort food." If he had a weakness, then his preference for this type of candy (and no, he hadn't looked for it...he had found it in the kitchen cabinet quite by accident of course). He just had to be careful with the food because he was sure he gained a few pounds by the time he would be back to Brooklyn. Still, he couldn't resist the temptations. At the thought of freshly baked cheesecake he got a watery mouth. "Although this is no comparison to Mom's cake of course. But all in all it's better than nothing."

With a skillful gesture Neal caught the candy bar and nodded. "Thanks." They sat down on the ground, with their backs on the trunk. "How is she by the way? She seems to cope well with the situation."

"Well, yes, you should have seen her yesterday evening. Back then she was devastated."

"It's only fair," Neal said and remained silent for a moment. "I think it was a good thing to come home. It certainly was a shock for her. And she needs someone she can mother hen."

"Above all, she's not used to being alone. Mom and Dad are together for over 50 years." And once again he was amazed how well Neal was able to read people. "You know, I can't stop thinking of the murder," Peter tried to change the subject as he chewed. "I don't know what to do."

"Well," Neal shrugged, "my suggestion is indeed fallen on deaf ears."

With a frown, Peter turned around. "Your suggestion included to break into the house."

"I would never do that."

"Of course not," Peter interjected without hesitation. "You'd find another way, but the end result would be the same. If anything, we'll talk to the neighbors."

Unnoticed by both, Buddha had meandered down the branch (a bit clumsy but nevertheless) and sat contentedly on the top ladder step. The rustling of the bar wrapper had sounded quite tempting for him and he meowed to the two strange men who apparently represented the source of the rustling. Surprised by the noise, both looked up.

"Look, who lives up to his name," Neal laughed and pointed to the cat.

"Why?"

"Buddha means 'the awakened one' and I think it's safe to say that he's indeed very much alive," Neal explained and carefully stood up. "Are you hungry?" He spoke to the animal with a soft voice and approached him slowly.

Buddha didn't seem to expect something bad to happen and stretched slightly forward to sniff.

Neal continued to climb up the ladder step by step. "Here we go. Look at you. You seem curious, huh?" Rubbing the foil with his fingers, Neal closed the distance between them. "Isn't that beautiful? Yeah, something very beautiful, right?"

Peter still was skeptical, but assisted Neal by also standing up and moving slowly in the direction of the ladder. "Oh great, now he even flirts with cats," he rolled his eyes. "Hey, Dr. Doolittle, grab him and that's it."

Totally absorbed by his task, Neal didn't reply. He rose another step and the success was within his reach. Slowly he played with the foil in front of Buddha and got the cat's attention. With his right hand he grabbed Buddha by the neck before the cat could react. Startled by this action, the cat tried to escape. Neal let go of the foil and lifted the cat with his left hand. "For heaven's sake! He's really as heavy as he looks like," he exclaimed amazed as he stood freehand on the ladder.

"Yeah!" Peter triumphed and raised his fist in the air. "Mission accomplished!"

"Hey, watch out! You're scaring him," Neal warned, but it was too late. Alarmed by Peter's loud voice, the cat tried to wriggle itself out of Neal's grip. Using its claws and snarling dangerously, Buddha was fiercely trying to get free. As quickly as possible Neal tried to come down the ladder. Then he let go of the cat, who ran off in the direction of the cat flap and disappeared into the house.

"You alright?" Peter asked as he saw that Neal had suffered some bloody scrapes on his hand. "I'm sorry."

Eyeing his injuries, Neal muttered, "His physical appearance is deceiving. He's devious."

"Well, if you ask me, I would have cut down the tree," Peter whistled through his teeth.

"I would have been curious of your confession after your mother demanded an explanation."

"We would have come up with something clever, but the subject doesn't matter anymore," Peter said and brought the ladder back to the garage.

"I admit, I would have liked to see you using the chainsaw," Neal reconsidered, sounding a little bit disappointed.

In order to cheer Neal a bit up, Peter patted him on the shoulder and handed him a handkerchief. "At least, we've done a good deed today!"

...

Once in the house, they were happily greeted by Lucy. "I see you've actually got him down the tree. Thank you!"

"Neal has been injured by Buddha. Do you have some disinfectant spray?" Peter asked.

"Oh no!" Lucy exclaimed worried and held her hands over her mouth. "I'm very sorry. Come with me so I can take a look at it."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Burke. There are just some scratches." Neal didn't want to cause any unnecessary circumstances. But before he knew it, Lucy had grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him down the hall. "Really...it's nothing serious!"

"Poppycock! It'll take only a few seconds."

With a glance back over his shoulder, Neal could see that Peter was grinning while he waved at them. "I'll wait in the kitchen."

During his criminal career he had had to deal repeatedly with minor injuries, only topped with the bullet wound in his thigh which he counted as a more serious one. But the four scratches on his left hand and the palm weren't really worth mentioning. Unfortunately Lucy was already in full mother hen mode. She was determined to make sure he wouldn't bleed to death, so it seemed. He wasn't used to such attention and felt a little uncomfortable. Just because he didn't want appear to be rude, he didn't resist following her into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat after she gently pressed him down.

Lucy went to the cupboard and pulled out a first aid kit, which she sat on the edge of the sink. Then she grabbed a washcloth, damped it and started to dab away the blood from Neal's hand. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Caffrey," she said as she gently took care of the wounds.

"No harm done, Mrs. Bu-"

"Lucy," she offered and looked at him briefly.

"Lucy," he repeated and nodded, "Neal."

"These are two really deep scratches," she said softly as she examined both sides of Neal's hand and grabbed a tube of ointment. "I think I'll make a bandage that stays on overnight, so that the ointment is more effective."

"Really that's not necessary." So much attention to his person was unusual for Neal, yet it brought back old memories. Memories of how Ellen had taken care of him when he had come home again with abrasions or contusions after he had played with older boys in St. Louis. The city had been like a giant playground for them and there had been no limits (not to them anyway). Much to the chagrin of Ellen, who had repeatedly pulled him by the ears. A sad smile appeared on his face. One day he had injured his leg on a piece of rusty wire mesh fence when he and a few of his buddies had rummaged around a junkyard. For fear of getting into trouble because of the torn pants, he had tucked them away (yes, early on he already had unconsciously been working on his criminal career by finding perfect hiding places). For exactly one week he had been successful with keeping the incident a secret. Then he got very sick because the wound on his leg got inflamed. The result had been a stay at the hospital to get his fever down. Besides that, he almost had died of homesickness. During his stay there he had nearly perfected his talent to sneak unnoticed out of his hospital room. Almost. Ellen had found him within an hour on the street waiting on a bus stop.

"Neal?"

Startled by Lucy's voice, he was brought back to reality. He blinked a few times. "Hmm?"

"You seemed...away. Are you okay?" She secured a band aid on the end of the bandage around his hand.

"Um yes," Neal said and cleared his throat when he eyed the bandage. "It's not the first time you're doing this, is it?"

"Oh my goodness, no." She laughed infectiously. "With two sons who had always been very active in sports and a husband who worked on construction sites, I became a very good nurse." Once again, she looked at him questioningly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I was...I was just thinking of something that happened to me as a child." Although he had met Lucy just recently, he felt confident enough in her presence to be honest to her. "I was quite a handful as a child."

"I bet you were. You've got that look. Your mother certainly must have been delighted."

Neal's face darkened slightly as he thought of his mother. "Not quite. My aunt raised me. Mom was-" He stopped and shook his head. "Never mind. Thank you for your help." He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. "It's much better." Then he stood up. "I think I'll go back to Peter." On the way back he noticed a wall full of pictures. Neal paused and had to suppress a laugh when he saw a few portraits of Peter as a child. Before they would head back to New York, he had to snap a few pictures of it with his cell phone. His colleagues would freak out by the sight of this. In particular, one image of Peter showed him sitting on the lawn, eating ice cream. He couldn't be older than 12 months. Then there were two pictures of him in typical baseball outfit. Neal guessed him about 5 or 6 years old. On one pic he stood with the baseball bat in hand, ready to swing it at the ball. On the other, he just knelt and smiled broadly into the camera.

As Neal entered the kitchen, Peter was standing near the window and talking on the cell phone.

"Right...and that's all? Hmm, okay. If something comes up, please contact me. Thanks, Jones."

Neal stood beside him and waited.

"I see that Mom couldn't resist," Peter laughed and pointed to the bandaged hand. After he put away the phone, he said, "According to Jones, there are no reports from the police and the current owner has no criminal record or is somehow conspicuous otherwise."

"That doesn't mean a thing. Even though he hasn't been reported so far, doesn't mean at all that he has a clean slate. It just means he's good at keeping his criminal activities unnoticed." After he saw Peter's questioning look, Neal quickly added, "So I've heard."

"Sure you have."

"And now?"

"Let's settle this issue," Peter answered and seemed more confident. "I'll drive you back to the hotel."

"Don't you want to stay for a while, Neal?" Lucy asked who had just entered the kitchen. "I can make sandwiches. We still have some left over tuna salad. Do you like tuna salad Neal?"

Peter's mother apparently had a crush on him. Silently he exchanged looks with him and then shrugged. "How could I turn down such a kind invitation?" If he was doing this skillfully, he would be able to learn something from Peter's childhood this evening. And the best part of all was that Peter couldn't do much about it.

Smiling, Lucy pointed to one direction. "Why don't you sit on the terrace? It's still beautiful weather outside."

...

It didn't take long for Lucy to come back with a tray full of dishes and glasses. She didn't accept Neal's offer to help and disappeared in the house again.

Neal just smirked.

"What's up?" Peter wanted to know, and felt like he missed the forest for the trees.

"Your mother desperately needs someone she can mother hen," Neal commented and took a sip.

A short time later the cat joined them, but stopped immediately as it realized who sat on the terrace.

His reaction didn't go unnoticed by Neal. "Hi, Sid," he greeted the cat, but got no response. "I guess he doesn't like me. Yet I haven't done anything to him. Quite the contrary," he said and didn't let the cat out of his sight. Referring to his battered left hand, he mumbled, "I'm the victim."

Lucy had brought some sandwiches and looked at Neal and Buddha. "I don't think it has to do with the rescue. Buddha is always a bit shy at the beginning when it comes to strangers. Besides, he can't show any reaction when you call him by a false name."

"Speaking of," Peter cut in, and was either way surprised that his parents owned a cat, "why is he called Buddha at all? I mean, it is a rather unusual name for a cat."

"His name has nothing to do with his physique," Lucy answered. "Even though one thinks that may be the reason. But rather the fact that he always sleeps near the stone Buddha in the garden. Actually he was a stray. He popped up one day and he seems to like it here. At least he's been here for two years now." She gave Neal a bowl for the salad. "You've made me curious, though. Why did you call him Sid?"

Neal smiled. "The real name for the man we call Buddha is Siddhartha Gautama. Buddha is actually a title for someone who has experienced an epiphany. Hence the name Buddha means "the awakened one" or "enlightened" in Sanskrit. It's important to point out that the enlightenment has to be done on our own."

Peter wasn't surprise to such things from Neal. The former con man was well educated and a man of vast reading. It was a shame that Neal had used his intelligence for the wrong reasons and wrong side of the law. At the moment however, Peter wasn't sure if Neal's basic knowledge about Buddhism would ever be helpful in a case. He just hoped that it hadn't already found application.

As if on cue, Neal shrugged innocently and grinned, "That's what I've once read on one of those large picture calendars."

...

After the dinner, Lucy and Neal were cleaning the dishes while Peter had gone to the bathroom. Neal stood beside her and chatted with her lively.

"Seems like yesterday to me...," she laughed and gave Neal a plate to dry.

In the corner of his eyes, Neal saw Peter standing in the doorway. "Hey, we just revel in memories from you."

"Oh no," Peter rolled his eyes, looked at his mother and shook his head. "How can you do this to me?"

"Oh yes," Neal grinned, sounding dead serious. "I'm convinced that the story of your Nobel Prize worthy discovery will be discussed generations after you."

"Which of my many strokes of genius do you mean?"

"The one in which you have created this wonderful green fog that wobbled through the house."

"Oh," Peter murmured, wondering briefly. "Now, that happened ages ago."

"Could be. But it's interesting to learn this new side from you. Never expected you to work in the field of natural science."

Peter shrugged with his shoulders indifferently. Neal played on the fact that he had run experiments in the basement with his chemistry set at the tender age of 8. Actually, he had wanted to create blue crystals of copper sulfate, but it had been a flop. Instead, he had unintentionally produced green mist. "Yes, I did. For exactly one week. After the incident I turned to mathematics and sports." When he saw the wide grin of Neal, he grimaced. "Oh, great. I'll get to hear this again and again from now on, am I right?"

"Only from time to time," Neal played down the issue, shrugging with his shoulders.

"I'll take you back to the hotel now."

_to be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Ithaca, NY**  
**Wednesday morning**  
8.25 am

Soon after he had come back to the hotel room he took off the bandage. As much as it had flattered him to have been treated by Lucy, he had found the bandage a little bit exaggerated and had only agreed to that to please her. After he had gone to bed, he had reconsidered the conversation he have held with Peter and Lucy and an idea had formed. Today, he wanted to make it reality. A short time later he entered the bookstore and paused to let his gaze wander around. Slowly he strolled along the shelves, but suddenly stopped short.

Not five feet away from him Rick was standing on the shelf with the pocket books and seemed to read. So far, he hadn't noticed him, so it seemed.

"Looking for a good book? I happen to know a pretty entertaining writer."

Rick looked up. "Oh, hey. We seem to constantly cross our ways. What are you doing here?"

Walking up to him, Neal said, "I need a gift for Peter's father. And you?"

"I wanted to make sure that everything is settled for my reading this afternoon." He pointed to the large cardboard cutout next to the entrance which displayed the event. Then he changed the subject. "I understand that he's doing better?"

"Yes."

"Glad to hear that. Oh, wait," Rick said and reached for a book. "What's his name?"

"William Burke."

Pulling a pen from his pocket, Rick opened the book and started to write something down. "Please give it to him and tell him my get well wishes."

"Thank you." Neal was surprised, but basically Rick's style wasn't strange at all. Rick was an open and warm-hearted guy. "I'll make sure of that."

"Can I help you, sir?" An employee appeared and smiled at Neal.

Rick pointed to the book in Neal's hand. "That's on me."

"Very happy," the young lady nodded without turning her eyes from Neal.

"Do you happen to know if you have any books on architecture from New York? Some kind of historical atlas?" Neal wanted to know.

"Over there. I can show you."

"Thank you. I think I can handle it alone. Yet another question, miss. Do you also deliver? Like to a hospital for instance?"

"That's no problem, sir." Although the smile was still on her face, her voice sounded disappointed. Apparently she had hoped for more personal contact.

"Wait a second. Don't you want to give it to him personally?" Rick asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"I'm not sure if Peter wants me to show up there." He also didn't want to disturb, because he knew how important the family was for Peter and he felt out of place. It was then that he realized what book Rick had given him and he grinned as he read the blurb. "A serial killer begins menacing the Twentieth Precinct, and the homicide squad is under pressure to stop him, and soon." He looked at Rick. In his hands he held the latest edition of Richard's novel "Deadly Heat" which the writer wanted to advertise later that day. "Hopefully William doesn't get more strange ideas after reading it."

"Why?"

"He claims that he has seen a murder on the neighboring property shortly before he suffered the heart attack."

Immediately the writer Richard Castle was alerted and extremely interested. "A murder? At the neighbor's? Wow. And?"

"What do you mean with 'and'? Nothing. The doctor blames the drugs and Peter has asked his colleague to investigate the new owner. And has come up with nothing."

"Are you saying that you haven't been there to look for yourself?"

Neal frowned. "Of course not. I mean, I volunteered but Peter adamantly objected."

"Like some objection would have stopped you before," Rick said and seemed to think. "That would be a good idea for a story. A man watches a murder, but no one believes him. The killer doesn't get caught because no one takes the only eye witness seriously." Narrowing his eyes, Rick smirked and his face brightened. "Hey, that's almost like the movie _Rear Window_. If James Stewart hadn't watched the apartments, the neighbor would have gotten away with killing his wife. What if there's been a real murder after all?"

Neal hadn't thought about that, but Rick had pointed out an important aspect. What if William had been right?

Another employee appeared. "Mr. Castle? Would you follow me please? We've set the table over there."

"Duty calls," Rick winked. "See you later?"

"I don't know. As far as I'm concerned, we'll stay until the weekend."

"I've got your number. We definitely stay in touch this time," Rick nodded and followed the employee.

...

With the book _Architecture New York City Revised: Histories and Views of Important Structures, Sites and Symbols_ Neal left the book store half an hour later. Unlike his first plan he had decided to deliver the book personally. For now, he had to go back to the hotel to deposit the book there. After that he would call a cab to get to the Burkes and get Spot to the vet. In all the excitement Lucy almost had forgotten the date for the annual vaccination shot. Since Neal had nothing to do today, he had offered his help yesterday evening. After a brief discussion between Peter and Lucy, Peter hesitantly had handed him the spare key to the house. Neal had taken the key and had winked at Lucy who had overruled her son. Neal was extremely pleased. Not only he did get the key, but also thanks to Lucy Peter had to promise him to take him to take him to the art museum as compensation so to speak.

He had gotten only a few steps away, when the Ford Escape drove past him and then stopped at the roadside.

"Where are you going? You want a ride?" Rick called out to him after he had let down the side window.

"Thanks, but no. I'm on my way back to the hotel. It's just a few blocks away," Neal waved his hand.

"No problem. Hop in. I have time. The lecture doesn't start until 1 pm."

Neal had stepped near the car and spoke to him through the passenger side. "And why are you here already?"

"I was up early and the competent lady from the bookstore isn't here this afternoon."

"You're bored, right?"

"You have to admit, compared to New York this town is...very quiet." Rick grinned. "Apart from killer neighbors." He patted on the passenger seat. "Come on in."

"Nice of you, but I have an appointment with the vet."

Rick looked at him, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"I have offered to bring the dog to the vet, while Peter and Lucy are visiting William at the hospital."

"And you are telling me that I'm bored? You are the one with side jobs," Rick laughed, only to get serious again. "Then let's waste no time."

Since it was useless to argue with Rick and he liked the idea of the private chauffeur, Neal just shrugged and got in. So he hadn't to pay a cab driver after all.

...

**11.30 am**

After they had completed the mission successfully, Neal and Rick sat on the porch and drank Lucy's fresh made lemonade. "The neighborhood seems very criminal," Rick mused and alluded to the fact that one of the employees from the veterinarian had told them very excited about the burglary the day before. Someone had broken in the doctor's office and had stolen painkillers and bandages.

"There is no crimeless city. To believe so would be Utopia," Neal said softly. Of course, he was aware of the fact that Rick seemed very interested by the neighborhood house. Still, he was surprised when Rick all of the sudden got up and went to the garden fence. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to take a look." He pointed to a tree. "Is that the one where the cat sat?" On the drive back to the Burkes, Rick had talked about his idea of the undiscovered murder.

"Yes."

"The windows are so dirty, you can't see clearly what's going on inside," Rick muttered, stretching a bit to get a better view. Only seconds later, he stormed off. "Are you coming?"

"W-what? Why?" Neal asked as he followed Castle aimlessly, but stopped after a few steps.

Rick went straight to the street to stroll bluntly to the doorstep of the neighbor's house.

Still skeptical, Neal stood on the same spot for a few more seconds before he went after Rick again. "Don't tell me you're going to ring."

"Neal, I won't tell you that I'm going to ring," Castle deadpanned not blinking an eye. "I'm going to knock," he grinned and knocked. Nothing happened. Rick looked around and rattled the doorknob. "Nobody's at home. No car in the driveway. They are probably at work." With a quick glance at Neal, he gestured him to follow as he made his way through the garden.

"What are you doing?" Neal hissed with a low voice. Suddenly he had a bad feeling and wished that Peter would be here.

"I just want to take a glance inside."

After it was clear that both the front and patio door were locked and the owner wasn't present, Neal looked at Castle questioningly. "And now?"

"Stay here." His friend turned around and walked back to Burkes' house, only to come back shortly thereafter. "Look what I've found," he grinned. In his hand he held a ball from Spot in the size of a regular baseball.

Neal suddenly knew what Rick was up to. "Are you crazy?! We can't go inside. Not without any probable cause anyway," Neal told him with a stern look. "Nothing we're going to find in there can be used in court!" Astonished at himself, Neal stopped short and eyed Rick with a withering look.

"Hellooo? I'm working with the police, I know what's going on," Rick rolled his eyes. "And now, step aside."

With an irritated expression Neal stepped to the side and flinched as the ball crashed powerfully through the glass door on the patio at the backyard.

"Oops. Gee!" Castle seemed very pleased. "Why didn't you catch the ball? Now we have to make sure nothing else was damaged inside," he said frankly and reached through the broken glass door to open the lock. Previously, he had slipped the sleeve of his leather jacket over his fingers so that he didn't cut himself on the shards.

"And you call yourself an upstanding citizen?" Neal complained.

Grinning broadly, Rick shrugged his shoulders and looked at Neal. "What? Will you stay outside?"

"Since you're so perfectly well prepared...you first, please," Neal said and made the appropriate gesture. "If Peter finds out..."

"You've never been so worried before."

"Maybe because I'm not even supposed to be here? And because we're breaking into a house this very second?"

"We're not breaking in. We're just looking for our ball," Rick replied.

"Well said, I could have said that," Neal muttered and looked around. It was VERY risky to break into a house in broad daylight. Nevertheless his own curiosity outweighed him and he followed Rick inside.

After a few steps Rick stopped in front of the ball, which he immediately gave a kick with his foot so that it rolled further into the house. "There seems to be a slope in this old shack."

"Seems so," Neal sighed behind him. The whole thing didn't seem right. For the first time he thought about that he was doing something illegal and was very worried about the consequences.

The interior of the house was basically like the neglected state of the garden. The rooms were mostly empty. There were boxes standing occasionally along the walls. The floor was covered with a layer of dust, but footprints in it bore that someone had walked along several times.

Castle suddenly stopped and pointed to the ground. "Look at that!"

Neal joined laterally beside him and studied the dustless and circular spot. His previous concerns were suddenly forgotten. "Someone recently mopped here. Can you smell that? I think it's bleach."

"But there's another smell, isn't it?" Castle asked and turned on his axis.

"Yeah," Neal nodded and sucked in some air. "That's...fresh paint!" He kicked the ball a little bit further. Slowly the both of them took a few more steps. One of the smells seemed to come from the basement. At the same time, a weak, regular sound could be heard, which sounded familiar to Neal. "Something's not right here." Neal paused, wondering at the mechanical chatter.

"That's what I thought, too. What do we do now?"

"Nothing. We do nothing," Neal said. "There's nothing we can do. No body, no crime scene, no murder, no case. Instead, we have damaged private property and broke into the house and may I point out, into the house of a respectable citizen. We should go now."

A slight squeal was heard. Both men turned around.

"Oh great," Neal groaned when he realized that the front door was opened. "Let's get out!"

"Hey! What are you doing here?!" A tall unkempt man with long stringy blond hair shouted at them. With only a few steps he had closed the distance between the front door and back room. With the right hand he held a paper bag, which he dropped when he realized that he was dealing with burglars. The contents of the bag - mostly food, but also two boxes with green ink - trickled along the floor. Without hesitation, the man reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun, pointing it at the two intruders.

"Whoa!" Rick said softly and held up his hands. "If you ask me, there's more to William's story."

Neal had also lifted his hands. "Great, Rick. I would never have thought that," he grumbled. _NOW would be a great time to call Peter,_ he thought bitterly.

...

**11.55 am**

Even if Peter didn't want to admit it, William's story was still very intriguing to him. Mostly because his father still insisted that he has seen the murder. To finally remove any doubts, he had made his way to the police station after he had left his mother and aunt back in the hospital. In most cases, the police had insider information that didn't occur in FBI files. A personal interview was irreplaceable.

"Chief Cooper will be with you soon," the lady at the reception told him.

Peter nodded to her and walked over to bulletin board where the official evaluations of recorded crimes of the past four years had been published on two A4 pages. Overall, the report stated that the city was proud of the fact that Ithaca was the # 1 ranked as the most secure city in the United States with a population under 150,000, as well as having been ranked # 3 for metropolitan lowest crime rate in the country. In principle he had found his answer by reading this, but since he was already here, he could talk to the chief in person.

"Peter? Big Pete? Is it really you?"

The voice sounded familiar to him. He grinned as he heard his nickname from College. Curious, he turned around and looked for the woman. "Shelly?"

"The one and only," the brunette woman dressed in a police uniform grinned as she went towards him. "Glad to see you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Peter replied, shaking her hand.

"I hear that Bill is doing better?"

He wasn't surprised that she spoke about this topic. Ithaca was after all a small town and his father well known because of his many activities. Shelly Taylor was a good friend of the family and also his old flame from College days. "Yes, thank you. We all believe he's had a guardian angel." Peter pointed to her uniform. "I didn't know that you're back again." After finishing school, she had applied at the police of Albany, while Peter had started his training at Quantico and both of them had somehow lost contact a short time later.

"Yes, the big city didn't suit me. I like it here much better. What about you? New York's still your playground?"

"You might say that."

"What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I'm waiting for Chief Cooper."

Shelly spread her arms. "Here I am."

It was now that Peter realized the name tag and the badge of rank. "You're...oh...sorry, I didn't know that...you're married."

"Well, what can I say? Surprise!" She laughed in amusement. "You can close your mouth again." After a few seconds she asked, "You still haven't told me why you came to see me?"

"Oh, I wanted to ask you if something reached your ears. Dad is convinced to have witnessed a murder in the house of the Gordons. I know this is ridiculous, but I just wanted to know for sure."

"A murder? Not that I know of. But let's go to my office."

A few minutes later, Peter sat in the visitor's chair and waited until Shelly had accessed the data base via computer. Beforehand he had given her all relevant information.

"Like I said before, there's no official report. Max Beasly, the new owner, is an inconspicuous man. But I'm sure you know that already." She frowned. "Somehow that name sounds familiar. Wait a minute." She typed in something and clicked through several pages. "Interesting. Max is the brother of Steve and Steve...," she narrowed her eyes and seemed to read. "Oh. Drug offenses, burglary, theft, forgery. Pretty much anything." Looking up from her computer screen, she continued, "I'll check the database but it could take some time.

Of course Peter knew that they were situated in a grey area. Running a respectable citizen through the database without any probable reason was a hot potato. And he certainly couldn't afford a misstep here. "I don't want to trigger a large-scale operation by any means."

"Let's see what's going on." With a glance at her watch Shelly said, "Are you hungry? It's after 12 o'clock. We could grab a bite and chat about the good old times."

...

12.50 am

"Have you taken leave of your senses? What about this nonsense? I can't believe it!" Although he was usually a quiet person, Max Beasly obviously had to fight hard to keep his composure. The brown-haired man excitedly walked up and down. He tried to avoid eye contact with the two tied men who were sitting on chairs on the other side of the room.

"What was I supposed to do?" Steve said with a loud voice.

"You simply could have let them go."

Steve snorted, but apparently had no rejoinder to the comment of his older brother.

"You still can let us go," Rick answered, shrugging his shoulders. "I-I mean...nothing happened so far. Let's...let's pretend nothing happened, okay?"

Neal shook his head in silence in order to signal Rick to shut up and remain silent. Sometimes Rick seemed to forget that he couldn't always act the way he wrote about in his novels. The situation was dicey and Max very upset.

With his throbbing jugular vein, Max looked angrily at Rick. Nevertheless, he didn't accept Rick's suggestion, but turned his head back so he could look at Steve. "What are you going to do?" He wanted to know and seemed somewhat more composed by now. Running a hand through his hair, he cursed. "I shouldn't have let you come back. You're a trouble maker."

Unknown by the two brothers, Neal worked hard to get rid of the manacles. Only a few more moves of his hands and he would be free. For now, however, he had to be patient and wait until the two brothers had calmed down. Then he hoped the two would continue their dispute in another room and he could try to call for help. But until then he had to stay low. Throwing a silent look at Rick, all he could do was wait and curse himself as to why he hadn't stayed at the Burkes.

"At the moment they remain where they are. I'll come up with a plan in due time," Steve said with crossed arms over his chest.

Max still was upset. Like a cornered animal, he paced up and down, waving his arms wildly. "I'm this close," he gestured a very short distance with the thumb and forefinger, "to draw first blood. It took me years to come so far and I did everything to remain inconspicuous. And then you showed up, crossing the line like you always do. Every time! You're about to ruin the whole operation!" Suddenly he stopped short and put his hands on his hips while he took a deep breath. "And now - get out of my sight."

"Max, I-" Steve made a new attempt to speak with his brother.

"Shut up," Max snapped at him, grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him against the wall. The left sleeve slipped up and a bloody bandage could be seen. "And remember one thing - the next time I won't miss. Guaranteed!"

All of the sudden it became clear to Neal - William hadn't seen a murder. But there had been a shot nevertheless. Max had shot Steve and hit his arm. The area in the house that smelled of bleach - one of the two presumably had mopped up the blood. Because Max wanted to maintain a low profile, they passed on going to the hospital and therefore had broken into the vet office. The green color, the mechanical chatter, the smell of fresh paint - Max was busy printing something. Neal's guess was dollar bills. No wonder that Max was so upset. But it also meant that he and Rick were in great danger, for he was convinced that Max would stop at nothing.

_to be continued..._


End file.
